Broken Masks
by MadAuntieKeith
Summary: Kieren goes to Simon looking for cold comfort- but the encounter does little to help his gloom and adds guilt and conflicted feelings to boot. Can he trust Simon Monroe, or is he just fooling himself once again? Angsty Siren multi-chapter, with extra guilt and confusion (AKA the basis of this entire stupid ship, WHY am I in this fandom?) Starts up at the end of S2 E3, S2 spoilers.
1. Chapter One

**_Yes, okay, I admit it- In The Flesh has taken over my life and I wrote a quick Siren one-shot, even though I'm not 100% sure how I feel about their relationship yet- too early to tell, really, ain't it? They've got potential, but swear to God if Simon hurts my Ren there is gonna be HELL to pay! So yeah, spoilers if you haven't seen the new series!_**

**_Anyway, hope you enjoy it! And for those of you who're still waiting for me to update my Sherlolly fic... *grovels* I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry I'm a pathetic excuse for a fanfic writer forgive meeeeeeeeeeee! I've been having a lot of trouble focusing on stuff recently and the only reason I could do this was because I got hit by a sudden flash of inspiration by the ending of the last episode, so here's hoping I can transfer some of that creativity to Sherlolly before too long! (And I am _really _sorry!)_**

_**So, enjoy! And after this fic I'll be adding some of my notes and thoughts about these guys and the new developments this season, so if you want to talk/rant/fangirl about this show please do not hesitate to PM me! :D**_

_**WARNING: Angsty one-shot! Slight fluff but mostly guilt, guilt, and more guilt. Picks up at the end of S2 E3.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: In The Flesh and all it's characters belong to Dominic Mitchell and BBC3. Song lyrics belong to the lovely Gabrielle Aplin.**_

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

_"I left you out in the English rain_

_To soak you through and dilute the blame_

_Don't ever want to hear those words today_

_ You made me high then you swooped so low_

_From a hummingbird to a silent crow_

_I was on your side but then I saw it change"_

-'November'_, _Gabrielle Aplin

* * *

_Whatareyoudoingwhatareyoudoingwhatareyoudoing?!_

Kieren's conscious mind assaulted him with angry, unanswerable queries while the unconscious part took the reins and launched his body forward, his parted lips colliding with Simon's in an unprecedented act of courage. Or stupidity. Both, in fact.

_Idiotidiotidiot!_

He couldn't hear the internal screaming over the feeling of cold lips against his own; surprised at first but then opening, yielding. The inner cacophony was muffled by the feeling of cool hands creeping up to the back of his head, clasping his neck and holding him close, and his traitorous body was only too happy to stay put while his mind fizzled with a confusing storm of pleasure and apprehension. His guilt ridden conscience occupied itself by compiling a handy list of all the reasons this was a terrible life decision.

_1) Amy. If she found out about this you'd break her heart and lose her._

_2) Simon. You know nothing about him (aside from he has _fantastic_ lips- stop it, bad thought.) and you have no idea what he's after, how he feels about you or if he's even trustworthy. _

_3) Rick. He may be gone but that doesn't mean you're over him, and it doesn't mean you're ready for someone new._

_4) You. You're not thinking straight. You've had a bad day, you miss Rick, you're lonely and so far Simon's the only person you've seen who hasn't been treating PDS sufferers like animals, which is really no reason to attack him so get off. _Now_._

He finally pulled away, planting his hands on Simon's chest and pushing off to put a few inches of space between them. His breaths puffed out in ragged bursts, and he had a moment to consider how laboured breathing after intense kissing seemed to be so instinctual it transcended death and the lack of need for oxygen before Simon spoke up, his voice rough.

"What was that all about?" He rasped with a soft chuckle, his hands still resting lightly on Kieren's shoulders. "Not that I'm complaining."

Kieren blinked several times, trying to clear the fog from his mind as he felt Simon's gaze scrutinising him. He wished for a moment that Simon would just wear his contacts for once instead of staring him down with his impenetrable gaze, white orbs unreadable. Kieren fidgeted uncomfortably and slowly lifted his hands from where they clasped Simon's chest, making a half-hearted show of smoothing his shirt, racking his brains for an answer before finally mumbling: "…Tough day."

Simon raised his eyebrow, and Kieren could have sworn he saw a flicker of disappointment in his shielded eyes, but the look was gone before he could even be sure he'd seen it. "So, out for a little stress relief?"

"Yes. No! I-" Kieren fumbled, hands flying away from Simon to wrap around his own torso anxiously. He turned away, unable to form a coherent thought with that piercing gaze practically dissecting him. He was just about to make another floundering attempt at explaining himself when he heard the creak of bedsprings and a familiar voice from another room.

"Simon?" Amy's voice rang out, making both men jump guiltily. "Simon, who is it?"

Simon spared Kieren a long look before calling out. "It's Kieren. Looks like there's some trouble in the woods, some of those ex-HVF nutters have found some rabids," he lied smoothly, his eyes never leaving Kieren's face. "I'd better go and help, see to it they're properly treated."

"Need me to come?"

"No, that's fine, Amy!" Kieren called a little too quickly, his eyes skittering over to Simon. "You get some sleep, we'll handle it!"

Amy's head poked out from round the corner, and Kieren cast another guilty glance at Simon, quietly hoping his cover-up mousse hadn't too obviously transferred itself to the other man's lips. Amy smiled cheerfully at them both, and Kieren was too preoccupied with suppressing his own nervous ticks to notice the way her hand trembled slightly on the doorframe.

"Of course you will- my big, strong men!" she chirped, her affectionate smile making Kieren's guilt burn hotter. "Take care of yourselves out there, eh? Bring Mymon back in one piece, K, can't have my future husband getting shot in the head!"

Kieren winced, but hid it as best he could with a smile. "Will do, Amy."

Amy nodded, lowering her trembling hand and retreating back towards her room. "Night, night, boys!"

"Night," they grunted in unison, before spinning round and heading wordlessly to the door, slamming it behind them loud enough for Amy to hear it from her room. They were barely off the doorstep before Kieren rounded on Simon with fire in his eyes.

"Why haven't you talked to her yet?" he demanded, too angry to remember to feel awkward.

Simon exhaled sharply and glared. "I told you, there's nothing to talk about."

"Well, _clearly _there is!" Kieren snapped.

Simon huffed and grabbed his elbow, dragging him a bit further from the front door so Amy wouldn't hear his outburst. He brought them to a halt beneath a lamppost at the end of the block and kept his grip on Kieren's arm, staring coolly into his mismatched eyes.

"Kieren, what do you want me to say?" he asked calmly. "Do you want me to march right back there now and tell her she's been deluding herself? Tell her I've never loved her like that and never will? How well do you think that'll go down?"

Kieren blinked against the dry feeling in his eyes, the closest his undead body could come to tearing up, feebly struggling to pull his arm from Simon's grip without really caring if he succeeded. "She's my friend…"

_And I betrayed her…_

"I know," Simon said, his grip relaxing slightly. "I don't want to hurt her, either. Best to just let her have her fantasies, she's happier this way."

Kieren yanked his arm away and took two steps back, still face to face with Simon. "It's not right. You can't just keep leading her on like this, if you really love her like you say you do you'd tell her the truth."

Suddenly Simon was in front of him again, their bodies a scant few inches apart, his eyes boring into him. "I thought I made myself clear, Kieren Walker: I don't lead people on."

Kieren gulped and resisted the urge to close the distance between their lips, crossing his arms more tightly over his chest and meeting Simon's gaze calmly. "Let's agree to disagree."

Simon cocked his head to the side, taking in Kieren's rumpled appearance and smudged cover-up. "You never told me why you came to me."

"I don't know," he answered semi-truthfully. He certainly knew why he'd gone looking for comfort- seeing your own kind imprisoned, mistreated and nearly shot with barely a thought was enough to make you angry at best and downright depressed at the worst. A part of his quietly accepting façade had cracked, manners went out the window as his downtrodden egocentric side demanded he do something for himself for once. Why that something happened to be kissing Simon was anyone's guess. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"I shouldn't have come," he muttered, dropping his arms and turning to leave. "Sorry, I don't know what I was-"

"Kieren!"

He felt a hand clasp around his wrist, tugging him gently but insistently. He turned back slowly, weighing up the pros and cons of just yanking his hand away and storming off, but the look in Simon's dead eyes made him pause and catch his unnecessary breath.

He looked almost desperate, his eyes wide and his usually indifferent face open and vulnerable. He glanced down at the floor as Kieren looked on in astonishment, tightening his fingers on the blonde man's wrist and lightly tracing the puckered scar as he attempted to cover up his lapse. When he looked back up his usual guarded expression was back, only somehow softer.

"Don't leave," he said quietly, eyes flickering to Kieren's and then back to the floor. "Not like this."

Kieren barely noticed his wrist sliding from Simon's grasp, away from his gentle caress and hanging in the air between them, their fingers lightly brushing against each other. "What do you want, Simon?" he asked more calmly than he felt, leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air by their slowly twining hands.

_Who are you?_

Simon met the younger man's gaze once again, and for a second Kieren forgot about Amy and Rick and the Second Rising. Right now, Simon wasn't a man on a mission or a leader or a fanatic. He saw only one thing reflected those eyes, and felt his cold, dead heart jump as the word rasped through barely parted lips.

"You."

Simon's cool fingers caught his own, tugging him round as he closed the distance between them, their lips mere millimetres apart when Kieren flinched back, doubt once again rearing its ugly head, running through his internal checklist at lightning speed.

_Amy, guilt. Simon, trust. Rick, regret. Me, alone._

"Bad idea…" he murmured, frozen in place.

"Want me to stop?" Simon breathed, his free hand hovering at Kieren's waist, heavy-lidded eyes carefully examining the tense lines of the heartbreakingly young face peering back at him.

_Yes. Absolutely. Bad, bad idea._

"No."

Their lips clashed once more, open and eager, and for the second time that night Kieren allowed the curiously comforting feeling of Simon's body against his to quash his misgivings. He felt an arm wind around his waist, and automatically reciprocated with his hand at Simon's neck, his fingers tangling in his short black hair. It was a new kind of kiss, worlds apart from the nervous embraces he'd shared with Rick, and the part of him that wasn't wallowing in guilt marvelled at how easy it felt. Though Simon remained a mystery to him, the way he kissed him left Kieren with no doubt that he wanted him. No guilt, no fear, no anger- just want. Possibly something deeper, if Simon was even capable of feeling that way about people, but Kieren had enough of a headache already without adding the 'L' word into the equation. He wasn't even sure if _he_ was ready for that, or if he'd ever be ready for it again. For the moment he closed his eyes and let the wave of sensations wash over him, shivering as he felt Simon's hand release his and slide up his back, settling just below his shoulder blades and pulling him tight against his body. He barely noticed as the first drops of rain began to fall, peppering their clothes and hair with glistening dots, gleaming in the yellow light of the streetlamps.

Kieren pulled away with a gasp as a cold droplet landed below his eye, running down his cheek with the eerily familiar feeling of a rolling tear. He blinked, his senses coming back into play one by one and his mind launching back into overdrive.

Before he could so much as get a word out Simon's lips were on his cheek, softly kissing the raindrop away. The action was so intimate it made Kieren's insides squirm a little, although he couldn't work out if it was a pleasant sensation or more akin to a knot of fear. Simon leaned back and saw the incredulous (and somewhat anxious) expression on his face and laughed quietly to break the silence.

"Made you look sad," he explained simply, reluctantly removing his hands from Kieren's torso and holding them at his sides in an attempt to put the younger man at ease. "Don't like to see you looking sad."

Kieren nodded slowly, trying not to let on how much the words made him want to just melt back into Simon's arms for a little longer. He took a few steps back, hesitantly extracting his fingers from the other man's now dishevelled hair. "I should go," he said quietly, sticking both his hands deep into his pockets and shrinking back in on himself.

Simon nodded understandingly, disappointment flickering across his face before he composed it into a more sympathetic expression. He raised his hand and rested his fingers gently on Kieren's cheek where more raindrops were collecting beneath the white of his exposed eye, expecting him to flinch away and being pleasantly surprised when he leaned slightly into his touch instead.

"Talk to Amy…" Keiren whispered, although he already felt he knew Simon well enough to know he would do no such thing.

"I'll see what I can do," Simon said, though Kieren had no way of knowing how the doubt in his voice saddened the older man, and how painful knowing that the boy's reservations were well-founded was to him. Untrustworthy, that's what he was. Now and forever.

Kieren nodded sadly, placing his hand over Simon's and pulling it away from his face, his fingers lingering only a moment before letting go and disappearing back into his pocket. He set off on the well-trodden path to home, brushing Simon's shoulder as he passed and trying to ignore the painful sense of separation he felt as the distance between them widened. He knew that if he turned around he'd find Simon still watching him, so resolutely kept his back turned until he was around the corner and out of his sightline before leaning heavily against a wall. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the rain fall against his partially covered face in an imitation of the tears his putrefied tear ducts were too dry to produce, washing away the lingering warmth on his lips along with the remains of his fragile mask.

_What are you doing…_

* * *

_"I always used to love November_

_But now it always floods with rain_

_I always used to love November_

_But now it always floods with rain_

_Oh how can I forgive?_

_Those words will stain forever"_

* * *

**_Ahhhhhhhh, Ren baby, please be happpppyyyyyyy D':_**

**_So, that's my contribution to this ship that will most likely end in all our hearts breaking, hope you enjoyed! _**

**_(Nothing but author's notes & thoughts from here down so feel free to leave now if you're not interested, I won't hold it against you!)_**

**_The most obvious way for this relationship to go seem to involve Simon using Kieren, particularly if he turns out to be the First Risen, and ultimately betraying him in the end, but I'm reeeallly hoping the writers don't go that way! I think Simon cares about his cause but also has some genuine feelings for Kieren, particularly if next week's preview is anything to go by. If that means that for Simon the prophecy and Kieren are two completely separate matters that he's torn between, I like to see where his loyalties lie by the end of the series. (fingers crossed he chooses Ren and they live happily ever after like the adorable undead babies they are, preferably without too much collateral damage on the way!)_**

**_As for Amy, I really hope that she doesn't get hurt too much because I love her to pieces and she deserves so much happiness, but I can't help feeling like she's changed a lot this series- she used to strike as a tough, independent, don't-need-no-man type of zombie before (I mean she flirted with Kieren in a light-hearted way but she was always more friendly to him than anything else) and now she just seems kind of clingy and co-dependent? I'm not condoning what Kieren and Simon are doing behind her back but I want to understand why she became so attached to Simon in the first place- I mean he's not actually discouraging her (which really pisses me off) but he's not really doing anything to lead her on either, so... argh, I don't know, what is life?_**

**_Basically, to sum up, I just want everyone to be happy but is this show gonna give that to me? I'm guessing NO. _**

**_Why do I let myself join these fandoms?_**

**_UPDATE: GUESS WHAT THIS IS GONNA BE A MULTI-CHAPTER AFTER ALL, THE LATEST EPISODE HAS GIVEN ME TOO MANY FEELS. Chances are the next chapter or two are gonna be angsty, deeper interpretations of canon scenes but if this series ends in a way that breaks my heart I reserve the right to write a new ending! So, if you enjoyed this, more to come! ;)_**


	2. Chapter Two

_**H****ello, my friends, I am here! Yes, this one-shot has become a two-shot! (The last episode left me with far too many feels to ignore!)**_

_**I don't know how many chapters we'll end up with here, but I will tell you that at least the next couple of chapters are going to stick pretty close to the series canon with more in-depth interpretations of the scenes from Kieren and Simon's POV, however I reserve the right to go AU/UA with the ending if the next two episodes bring too much heartbreak for me to survive. Basically this fic has to have the end result of a happy Kieren, happy Amy, and if possible a happy Simon so if we don't get that in the finale I swear on my Buffy DVD collection that I will write my way around it! You're welcome xD**_

_**Those of you who go back to read the first chapter may notice two blocks of song lyrics that weren't present before. This is because I've been listening to Gabrielle Aplin recently and crying because, in my humble opinion, her songs fit Siren perfectly (particularly within the context of this fic), so from now on I will be bookending each chapter with lyrics from a certain song of hers that I think is in-keeping with the theme of the chapter, so if you can't be bothered with lyric fics just skim over the first and last blocks of italic :) You should definitely listen to her, though. I have a vague idea of where this fic's going and I'm about 90% sure I've got a song for every chapter, that's how perfectly it fits! **_

_**So yeah, enjoy! This chapter covers the first half of S2 E4- we'll get to awkward boyfriend Simon and Kieren's captivating speech next time!**_

_****__**DISCLAIMER: In The Flesh and all it's characters belong to Dominic Mitchell and BBC3. Song lyrics belong to the lovely Gabrielle Aplin.**_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

_"I've always asked for nothing but you've found it hard to see_

_So I gathered all I had and laid it down before your feet_

_I gathered all I had_

_So how do you feel today?_

_How do you feel today?_

_'Cause tonight I'm closing all the doors_

_So stay outside or lay down with our flaws_

_How do you feel today?"_

-'How Do You Feel Today?', Gabrielle Aplin

* * *

Kieren strode through the streets as briskly as his stiff limbs could take him- his muscles had never been quite the same since he'd crawled from his coffin. As he traipsed ever closer to the familiar bungalow, he considered exactly how he would confront his best friend and his kind-of sort-of secret boyfriend when he got there.

Complaining was the first thing that came to mind. Complain about Simon's blatant disregard for the authorities that would happily make the unlife of himself and his new gang of _au naturale_ lackeys a living hell- well, more of a living hell than it was now. Complain about the radical attitude that was going to bring them nothing but trouble. Complain about his reluctance to make things clear with Amy earlier so they wouldn't have to sneak around, because frankly Kieren had done enough sneaking around with Rick to last both of his lifetimes.

Oh, there was the guilt again. A familiar two-pronged attack of Amy-guilt and Rick-guilt. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take- as fatally proven not four years ago, Kieren couldn't handle a guilty conscience.

_Decision time_, he told himself silently as the bungalow came into view. He paused at the end of the street, catching his redundant breath as he considered his options.

_Option A: Keep seeing Simon and tell Amy about it. At least you're being honest about your dishonesty (if that even makes any sense)._

_Option B: Stop this thing before it goes any further. It was only a couple of kisses, if you call it quits now before it can get more serious you might not even need to tell Amy._

Kieren cringed as he realised that he didn't much like the idea of options A _or _B. It was pretty easy to tell what he _should_ do. The noblest course of action would be to tell Amy, beg her forgiveness, and call it quits with Simon before anyone got any more hurt. The problem with that plan was the very likely chance of losing them both. Better to lose one friend than two, surely?

"Coward…" he muttered as he approached the door.

_Amy's your best friend. Simon's a strange man with unknown motives who you barely know. It's pretty obvious what you should do._

Kieren nervously fixed his hair on the doorstep, his logical mind bellowing the sensible 'break it off and save a friendship' option at him. He wished he could listen to it.

Unfortunately, for reasons he couldn't even begin to fathom right now, he _really _did not want to give Simon up.

_Then tell her._

He took a deep breath, a pointless but calming motion, and pressed the doorbell. He waited expectantly, hoping Simon would answer- if possible he'd like to talk to him first. His stomach did little somersaults at the thought of seeing him again, his lips tingling with the memory of their fevered kisses in the rain. He could go for one of those right about now. _Jesus, Walker, control yourself._

A few tense seconds later, the door swung open and he was greeted by the beaming face of Amy Dyer.

"Look at you, all done-up and adorable!" she exclaimed fondly, enveloping him in a warm (figuratively speaking) hug, pressing her chin against his newly fixed hair affectionately.

"Oh. Hi, Amy," he said, his resolve draining the second he saw her cheerful grin meant just for him. He floundered hopelessly for a way to tell her that her kind-of sort-of betrothed had cheated on her with her BDFF that wouldn't hurt her feelings or make her feel betrayed.

…_Nope, drawing a blank. I'm a terrible person._

She nodded at him to come in and he brushed past quickly, avoiding eye contact as much as possible as she closed the door behind him. He was about to ask her where Simon was when he heard a vaguely familiar voice coming from the living room.

"That's what happened the night that I rose," a man's voice said quietly, and Kieren rounded the corner to find a small congregation clustered around Simon's reclining figure. Kieren leaned against the doorframe and surveyed the scene as the man on Simon's right concluded his story. "That's everything. That's all I remember."

"Oh, yeah," Amy whispered, leaning her chin on Kieren's shoulder snugly. "You're late for church."

"Thank you, Brian," Simon's smooth voice broke the quiet, his eyes studying the fair-haired man knowingly. "It's a great feeling, isn't it?" he widened his gaze to the rest of the gathering, his eyes lingering on Kieren a second before once again addressing his constituents. "You know why?"

Their eyes never left his face as he answered his own question, his carefully chosen words captivating his audience effortlessly. "Because the living have tried to control us with shame."

Kieren watched the disciple, carefully masking his disappointment and wearily resigning himself to another dose of creepily religious, anti-human propaganda. He really wished Simon would just give it a rest. Just for a day or two. He kept his fingers mentally crossed that the disciple might at least drop the act when they were alone.

_Alone. _His stomach fluttered again. He squashed down the lustful feelings by concentrating on Simon's words and their meaning, carefully ignoring the inherent sexiness of the voice itself.

"Telling our rising stories…" Simon continued, and Kieren was too caught up in listening to his worryingly alluring sermon to pay much mind as Amy slipped away from his side. "Is where we start to say no. If we are serious about becoming free," he raised his hand and brought his finger down firmly on the arm of his chair, pinning each member of the congregation with his piercing gaze as his coercive voice held them in place. "The first shackle we have to throw off…"

His eyes remained turned to the risen at his feet, but Kieren felt his last words hit him like a punch in the gut.

"Is _shame_."

Kieren stared at the dark-haired man accusingly as his captive audience burst into enthusiastic cheers and cries. He felt like the words were aimed at him- whether they were referring to Kieren's refusal to shed the cover-up or his insistence that they tread carefully around Amy he wasn't sure, but knowing Simon it was probably both. It was a definite dig, and he knew it. Simon met his gaze for a second, but offered no further response as he returned his attention to the excitable flock.

"No Rising story should be left untold," he stated firmly. He smiled persuasively at his adoring crowd one last time before standing up, thanking Brian once more as he picked his way across the packed living room to the doorway and Kieren's disapproving face. He smiled charmingly, apparently choosing to disregard the daggers in the younger man's eyes. "You made it," he said quietly, nodding back at the chattering group. "Welcome."

Kieren stared at him incredulously. He couldn't understand him. This strange, charismatic, confusing man who looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen one minute and then publicly call him out on his naivety the next. Who, even after all they been through, still insisted on perpetuating this ridiculous cult-leader stereotype that Kieren so despised. Kieren's brow furrowed and he replied to the disciple's efforts to suck him into the anti-human group fun with one word.

"_Seriously_?"

He turned on his heel and strode towards the kitchen, expecting Simon to follow him.

He wasn't disappointed.

* * *

"Jesus, Simon," Kieren said grouchily as they emerged into the kitchen. Simon watched his every move, drinking him in. Kieren continued to pace, unaware of the dark haired man's quiet admiration. "To think I thought you might cut back on the preacher bullshit with me now we've-" he gulped as nerves and guilt caught up to him again. He ceased his pacing and sighed, leaning back against the stove. "Nevermind. By the way, they're making a list of non-compliants," he said, changing the subject and sliding his hands into his pockets. "So not showing up to Give Back probably _isn't _the great idea you think it is."

Simon rolled his eyes. The boy's sarcasm was something he was getting used to. His constant conformity to the rules and barriers laid down on him by those who despised him was something he desperately wished he _wasn't _getting used to. It saddened him to see any Redeemed, let alone a young, intelligent, vibrant person like Kieren Walker crushed by the system and conditioned to the point where they don't realise how little control they really have over their own lives. He was a victim of insidious government-sanctioned oppression, they all were. And the idea of Kieren as a victim of anything or anyone filled Simon with more anger than he'd felt in a long time. He was trying to pinpoint the exact moment he'd developed this protective attitude to the blond-haired youth when something Kieren was saying caught his attention.

"My followers?" he asked, eyeing the young man appraisingly.

Kieren shifted his position slightly, glancing towards the (ironically named) 'living' room where they'd left the rest of Simon's herd. "All these brainwashed people everywhere."

_Brainwashed?! _Simon raised his head and set his jaw firmly. "Why?" he asked, taking a step closer. "Because they have something to believe in?" he raised his hand and rested it gently but confidently on the side of Kieren's neck, ignoring the enticing way he squirmed under his hand and the little smile that crossed the boy's face momentarily in order to speak his mind.

"To me, Kieren," he said calmly, meeting the younger man's gaze resolutely, torn between loving and hating the sweet naivety reflected in his gaze. "You're the one that's brainwashed, just over a longer period."

Kieren's obliging smile turned to one of amused cynicism and he shrugged away from Simon's hand. "Yeah, don't do that," he said, shaking the offending appendage away from his neck and causing it to drop back to the older man's side.

Simon looked at him with wide eyes, mildly surprised. "What am I doing?"

"Whatever conversion technique you're trying," Kieren said accusingly, the last of the sweetness gone from his face as he confronted the disciple angrily. "I'm just, I'm not up for it!"

Simon shook his head, his lips tilting into an amused smile. "I'm not doing anything to you."

The blond man shook his head vehemently, his face a mask of flustered exasperation. "You know what's _so _annoying?" he burst out, apparently forgetting about carefully choosing his words and handing control to the long-suppressed angry eighteen year-old within. He kept blinking, shaking his head and turning his head from Simon's face to his chest and back to his face again as he rambled. "Is that you could be great… if you could just be a _normal _person for _two seconds!_"

He shrugged away from the stove and brushed past Simon's shoulder on the way to the door. Simon felt a sense of panic overwhelm him for a second. He couldn't let him leave. Not like this, not in the middle of a fight. Who knew when he'd see him again if he left now? He whipped round to see Kieren almost at the door, his voice barking across the room after him.

"What do _normal _people do?" he asked, feeling the knot of tension dissolve slightly as his words caused Kieren to halt in his tracks, his hand on the door handle, his face bathed in the sunlight from the window. Simon shrugged in frustration. "I'm serious!" he said pleadingly.

He saw Kieren sigh heavily and Simon lowered his voice, looking away from the strikingly youthful face by the window as he considered his words. "I'm serious," he said again, turning his eyes towards the floor as the truth of what he was about to say made his dead heart ache. "Tell me what you want," he said, turning back to find Kieren facing him once again, dark-lensed eyes shining in the sun. "I'll do anything I can to give it to you," Simon said, his face melting into a smile as he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

He slowly began to step forward, his eyes meeting Kieren's and trying desperately with just a look to tell the incredulous man that he was speaking the truth. "Because there's what I believe…" he said, staring intently at the handsome, open young face he'd been so drawn to from the moment he'd seen it across the graveyard on that first day, and he laughed softly at himself, a genuine smile breaking across his face momentarily. His expression turned soft and he tried to convey as much honesty as he could through his dead eyes, his putrefied heart melting at the look Kieren was giving him.

"…and then there's you," he finished, holding Kieren's gaze resolutely, telling him he meant every word and praying the confused young man would believe him.

"Okay?" Simon said quietly, almost to himself, taking a moment to reconcile himself with the gaping hole he'd just opened in his usually impenetrable defences. He looked back at Kieren's face, hoping to see any kind of sign that his moment of weakness wasn't going to be thrown back in his face, and found himslef captivated by the way he could practically see Kieren's mind working behind his wide, appraising eyes. "Okay," he muttered again, tentatively hopeful, his head leaning slightly in. Blank, impassive, Kieren watched his face, his eyes flickering down to his lips and back to his eyes. Taking the hint, Simon began to close the distance.

Suddenly Kieren's eyes shot to the side, and Simon straightened his back and let the blond man brush past him as the sound of footsteps down the hall alerted them to another presence. They broke apart just as Amy appeared in the doorway, keeping their eyes resolutely turned away from each other.

"No."

Kieren started guiltily, and Simon tried not to feel hurt by the honest regret he saw in his eyes as he turned to Amy.

"You two are _not _allowed to argue!" she said firmly, and Simon saw the blond man visibly relax as Amy continued speaking, beaming cheerfully at them. "You're going to feel so silly about this when the three of us are best friends!"

Simon watched her with his arms crossed, carefully observing the pain in Kieren's eyes as he listened to Amy's cheerful rambling.

"You're going to say, 'Oh, we should have listened to Amy! Amy, the beautiful genius!'" she finished, smiling sweetly at them both for a moment before advancing towards the fridge with a full bottle of homemade neurotriptyline in hand.

"You filled that half an hour ago," Simon pointed out, smiling affectionately at the woman's characteristic absentmindedness. He could've sworn she got a daffier every day.

She looked quizzically at him, glancing at the jar in her hand. "Did I?" she asked, her face concerned.

"Yeah," he said, too distracted to by the sad look on Kieren's face to notice the flash of worry on hers.

"I'll just have to put it back out again," she said, gesturing to the door and masking her lapse with a sunny smile. "What am I like?"

She chuckled and turned to leave, the two men smiling after her as she disappeared from view. Kieren took a few steps towards the door she'd just passed through, leaning against the frame with his head poking out as her footsteps disappeared, his face heavy with guilt.

Guilt looked all wrong on his face. Too rough, too old. Simon felt the surge of protectiveness again, white hot determination demanding he do something about it.

"Where were we?" he said quietly, advancing on Kieren and taking hold of his arm, spinning him round to press his back against the wall. He was about to swoop in for the kiss when Kieren's voice brought him to a halt.

"Hang on," he said, giving Simon a look like he'd gone completely insane. "She's right out there!" he said urgently, nodding in the direction Amy had wondered off in.

Simon blinked, shaking his head as he tried to come to a decision, logic warring with the urge to lean down the last few inches and kiss every last fear and doubt away from Kieren's flustered face. "I…" he stammered, searching through the haze for the right words. "I… Well, then she'll know."

He started to lean in again when Kieran shook his head, not meeting Simon's eyes. "Look, if this is something we're doing," he whispered, glancing up meaningfully at Simon's longing face. "I don't want her to find out like that… I want to tell her."

Simon nodded, biting back his disappointment in an effort to be supportive. That's what you did, wasn't it? Support the people you cared about. He could admit now that he was woefully inexperienced when it came to cultivating any sort of healthy relationship with another person- he'd spent his whole life up to his death avoiding them, after all. "Yeah. Yeah, fine," he said leaning back but keeping Kieren up against the wall. "Just tell her soon, will you?"

Kieren gulped and nodded, once again turning his eyes to the floor. It took all of Simon's willpower not to pounce on him right then and there. "I have to go," Kieren murmured, fidgeting against the wall and Simon's close proximity. "Got to be back by three. 'Family time'."

Simon clenched his jaw and nodded, swallowing back his resentment. He took his hand from the wall beside Kieren's shoulder and made to move away when Kieren's voice spoke up quietly. "You want to come?"

Simon looked back at his face, widening his eyes. "Me?"

Kieren nodded shyly, his hand moving to the back of his neck and rubbing at his hairline nervously. "Yeah. It's not much, just, you know, lunch. So we'd just be sitting there watching the rest of them eat, but… well you can come if you want."

Simon gaped at him for a moment. The enormity of the younger man inviting him to a private occasion with his very human family wasn't lost on him. He stared down at Kieren's face, noticing that he had his eyes turned down to the floor again. Obviously he was waiting for Simon to refuse the offer on the grounds that accepting the invitation would involve him spending an afternoon making polite dinner conversation with humans he didn't even know. It was a reasonable assumption on his part.

"Is that what normal people do?" he asked quietly, taking Kieren by surprise. "Go to lunch with the in-laws?"

If Kieren still had a blood flow, he would have blushed. "We're not _married!_"

Simon chuckled, tucking a finger beneath Kieren's chin and lifting it so they were once again eye to eye. "Well, is it?"

Kieren shrugged noncommittally. "It could be."

"Well, then," Simon said, pushing away from the wall and smiling at the stunned boy. "I'll do it."

Kieren blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah," Simon said, shrugging nonchalantly to mask his panic. _Shit shit shit I'm meeting his parents shit. _"Like I said," he added with a small smile. "I'll do whatever it takes."

* * *

Kieren was pacing the hallway, considering possible reasons for Simon's sudden change in attitude when he heard loud clattering behind the closed door of the disciple-turned-sort-of-boyfriend's bedroom. "You okay?" he called, frowning as he wondered what he could possibly be doing behind there. He'd only gone to change his clothes and that had been ten minutes ago. Kieren desperately hoped he wasn't packing weapons or crucifixes or whatever other possibly dangerous paraphernalia he'd like to have with him in a house full of humans. He was considering the amount of dangerous equipment Simon could hide under one of his enormous jumpers when his voice called out from behind the door, frustration evident in his tone.

"Just give me a second," he called, quickly followed by another clatter and a few muttered curses.

Kieren leaned back against the doorframe, weighing up the pros and cons of dragging a grumpy undead boyfriend to a family dinner. "We don't have to do this," he called, somewhat resentful of the fact that this seemed to be nothing but a chore for the older man. "We can forget all about it."

"No," Simon said firmly from behind the door, amidst more profanity. "You said you wanted me to see your world, so…"

"I'm not holding you to anything," Kieren said bitterly. Would a little pretend enthusiasm be too much to ask?

"I said I'd do it, I'll do it," Simon snapped irritably, making Kieren wince. Obviously the other man realised how tetchy he was starting to sound so he softened his tone. "It's part of the… getting to know you," his unexpectedly gentle words were punctuated by a grumbled "Jesus Christ", and he was right back to being cranky Simon again. "Is anyone around?" he called out.

Confused, Kieren did a circuit of the hallway and poked his head out the front door. Satisfied that Amy and the rest of Simon's groupies were nowhere to be seen, he called out a negative and held the door open, ready to leave.

"There'd better not be."

He turned round and his eyes widened as Simon emerged. Kieren smiled, a mixture of surprise, pride and smugness assaulting the older man as he slouched towards the front door. Simon glanced at him with dark-lensed eyes and scowled as he brushed past. "Yeah, yeah. Start walking," he said grumpily, leaving a beaming Kieren to close the door behind them.

They walked briskly, side by side, Kieren glancing at Simon's moussed-up face and smiling despite how awful it looked on him. It was too dark for him, highlighting all the creases in his skin and making him look at least several years older. It didn't help that he'd clearly never applied cover-up in his life and it was all patchy and too thick in places, but Kieren couldn't stop grinning at the gesture. He must mean something to the man if he was willing to go against his core beliefs and hide the undead nature he carried like a badge of honour.

Simon caught him looking and stopped his furtive glancing around to offer him a sardonic smile. "How do I look?" he asked dryly.

"So bad," Kieren answered honestly, but the smile never left his face.

"Yeah," Simon agreed, stopping short as Kieren overtook him and turned to face him, halting them in the middle of the street.

"Thank you," Kieren said earnestly, looking back into too-dark eyes and trying to express with just his face how much the gesture really meant to him.

Simon shrugged and smiled. "It's okay," he said, meeting the younger man's gaze steadily.

For a moment, Kieren felt hopeful. The way the dark haired man looked at him reassured him that maybe they really had something, something worth the hell he would no doubt get when Amy and Jem and pretty much everyone found out- somehow he didn't imagine the news of their relationship going down too well with many people. But for a second, the way Simon looked back at him with something close to adoration made him feel like everything would be okay, one way or another. Glowing with pride and gratitude for the man before him, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the surprised man's lips and closed his eyes, losing himself for a moment before they marched head first into cold, harsh reality. At least this time they wouldn't be marching alone.

For a few more seconds he just kept his eyes closed and drank Simon in, the comforting way his lips moved against his own and the strangely soothing coolness of his hand against his cheek, before breaking away and turning to walk the well-trodden path to his house, listening with satisfaction as he heard Simon's footsteps close behind.

He was too caught up in the glow to notice Amy's confused and wounded face at the end of the street where he and Simon had kissed for that second time in the rain, watching as the two men she loved most in the world turned their backs on her and strolled away, leaving her behind without a backwards glance.

* * *

_"I offered you my hands and I've given you my hope_

_So let me be your salvation, I refuse to be your rope"_

* * *

**AMY, NOOOOOOOOO! PAY ATTENTION TO HER, YOU FUCKS, SHE MIGHT BE GOING RABID! D:**

**So far that's the thing that's upsetting me most about this season's story line- everyone's so wrapped up in their own lives and problems that no one's even spared a thought for my Amy! At least she has Philip now, I guess (I still think he's kind of creepy but I'm willing to give him a chance on the grounds that he finally stood up to Maxine and everyone last episode. His character's beginning to develop, so as long as he doesn't hurt Amy I've decided to give him the benefit of the doubt!) But yeah, I understand that Kieren's got a lot of shit in his own life right now but he hasn't even noticed that Amy's sick and that pisses me off :(**

**So yeah, next time we have dinner with the in-laws! Hope to see you there :D Feel free to send me reviews and/or PMs if you wanna chat, I'll do my best to reply to you! **

**Later, Fleshers!**


	3. Chapter Three

_**Well, I'm back! Bet y'all thought I was dead xD**_

_**Chapter 3's here, wooooooo! This time in Broken Masks- awkward family dinners and SHOCKING confessions! Hope you enjoy :D**_

_**A note on zombie biology: those of you who've read my other Siren fic 'Sense Memory' know that in there I wrote it with the assumption that they have very limited feeling (kind of numb, like when fall asleep on your arm?). I wrote that after episode 5 in which Amy told Philip she couldn't feel a thing. As I began writing this we'd just had episode 3 in which there was plenty to suggest that they actually **_**did _have some sense of feeling (hot zombie make-outs ringing any bells?), not to mention in episode 4 Kieren talked about feeling rain on his fingers and stuff, so basically forget my undead biology from that other fic 'cause it doesn't apply here! (although I'm afraid you're not gonna get any detailed zombie sex no matter how much they can supposedly feel in this fic- sorry, guys, but a smut write I ain't :/ I can give you mild emotional steaminess at best! So yeah, that's gonna happen soon ;) )_**

**_Enjoy!_**

_**DISCLAIMER: In The Flesh and all it's characters belong to Dominic Mitchell and BBC3. Song lyrics belong to the lovely Gabrielle Aplin. Direct quotes taken from the show belong to the original writers, I make no profit from this story and write it purely out of love for the series! :3**_

* * *

"_Is there something I'm not seeing?_

_Something you're not telling me_

'_Cause I've been hearing different stories_

_And I don't know what to believe_

_Is there a reason I'm not healing_

_Or am I learning from this pain?_

_I have a little trouble kneeling_

_I don't know what to believe"_

-'Ready To Question', Gabrielle Aplin

* * *

"Are you sure you want me there?" Simon asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Kieren lowered his hand, his fingers still stained with the cover-up he'd been blending across the older man's face in an attempt to make it look less like it had been slathered on with a trowel. He looked slightly better, but Kieren couldn't get used to the lack of snowy white skin, and the brown contacts he'd secretly borrowed from Amy's case didn't suit him at all. Kieren wondered what colour his eyes had been before he'd died- green, maybe? Or blue.

"Kieren?" Simon said quietly, watching the blond man's face carefully.

Kieren shrugged off thoughts of Simon's eyes and tried to muster an honest answer to the question. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure what the answer was. He did want Simon there, of course he did- with all the shit he'd been getting from pretty much every other Roarton resident in the past week it was starting to feel like Simon was the only person (living or dead) that he could talk to, however weird and messed up that seemed. Having him around would certainly alleviate the tedium of another family dinner- maybe if he had someone else there his parents wouldn't insist that he pretend to eat? He still hadn't found the words or the guts to tell them just how _unhelpful _that whole charade was to him.

On the other hand… well, what would his parents think of him? What would Simon think of them? Would they just assume that he and Simon were nothing more than workmates or would his mum see right through that and spend the afternoon quietly sizing up his new boyfriend (which was still weird to say, or even think for that matter)? How would Simon react when he saw the way the Walkers treated Kieren's condition- like it didn't exist? Would he accept it and move on or would it set him off? There were too many variables, Kieren felt his throat clench up just considering it. Simon was still waiting for an answer. He did the first thing he could think of.

"If you don't want to come, it's not too late to back out," he said, neatly turning the conversation on its head and hating himself for it, burying his smudged hands in his pockets.

Simon frowned at him. That wasn't what he'd meant, and Kieren knew it. But he couldn't for the (un)life of him provide an honest answer to the original question so he'd turned it round. He could tell that Simon was annoyed at him for interpreting his honest concern as cowardice, and the Irish man turned his face away from him with a scowl.

"Can you stop saying that, please? I'm fine, I'm completely relaxed," he said with his jaw clenched a little tighter than a 'perfectly relaxed' person's technically should be. He caught sight of something up ahead and his eyes widened. "Is that your dad? Shit."

Despite his misgivings, Kieren couldn't help smiling at Simon's panicked expression. This must have been the first time he'd seen the man looking truly nervous. He decided to help him out. "Say you like his jeans."

Simon looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "What?"

He didn't have time to enquire further as Steve caught sight of them, straightening up from where he'd been tending the front lawn and watching them draw closer, looking in confusion at Simon. He had probably been expecting Amy. Kieren quickly stepped in with introductions before it could get more awkward.

"Simon, this is my dad, Steve," he said, smiling at his dad reassuringly.

"Hi, Steve," Simon greeted gruffly, extending his hand. Steve shook it, smiling but still bemused. When they separated Simon smiled uneasily and gestured downwards with his arms. "Like your jeans."

Steve glanced down and smiled, pleasantly surprised by the compliment. "Thanks very much," he said, chuffed. He ushered them into the house with a smile, and Simon glanced at Kieren with a grin followed shortly by a frown- a look that was equal parts 'look, I did what you said and it worked!' and 'I can't believe you had me say that'. Kieren shrugged at him and led the way in.

"Sue!" Steve called as they entered, Kieren's mum turning to look from her position by the dining table. "Kieren's brought a mate back. Simon."

"Very nice!" Sue said brightly, although she seemed confused. She must have been expecting Amy, too. She shot Kieren a questioning look, and in a moment of panic he desperately tried to recall if he'd fixed his own cover-up after he'd kissed Simon outside the bungalow. Surely Simon would tell him if it was smudged around his lips… wouldn't he?

"Hello Sue!" Simon said politely, even mustering a smile. "Thanks for having me."

"Lovely to have you," Sue replied graciously. She and Steve stood side by side, surveying the odd couple before them.

_Oh, fuck, do we look like a couple? Jesus, stop panicking._

After an awkward five seconds that could have easily been five years, Steve cleared his throat and smiled at the uneasy Irish man. "Well, I hope you like lunch, Simon!"

Simon looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. "Uh, sure…" he said diplomatically, obviously unsure of whether he should point out his condition or just go along with the charade. Maybe he'd even mime eating for Kieren's sake? Something about the thought rubbed Kieren the wrong way- Simon had already left enough of his principles by the roadside when he'd put on his cover-up and contacts, and he'd done it for Kieren. Regardless of whether Kieren had agreed with those principles in the first place, he'd respected them. He wouldn't make Simon give up any more of himself for the sake of a family dinner. Besides, he didn't particularly want to mime in front of Simon, either- Christ, he'd never live it down.

"It's definitely in his top three meals we don't eat," Kieren said sarcastically.

Okay, so perhaps he could have phrased it better. His parents shifted about awkwardly. Simon gaped at him for a few seconds before turning to give the elder Walkers a slightly embarrassed smile. To Kieren's immense relief, they smiled back.

"Well… no time like the present, eh?" Steve said, nodding to Sue as the two of them disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the food.

Simon smiled at them until they were out of sight, then turned to Kieren with a frown. "Smooth."

"It would have been awkward whatever I'd said," Kieren said dismissively, biting his lip and smiling. "You lot just bonded."

"What?" Simon asked, confused.

"I saw that little smile- the three of you, bonding over embarrassment," he said with a grin. "Maybe I should just make more tactless jokes, give you lot some common ground."

Simon chuckled lightly, checking the door Kieren's parents had exited through before lifting his hand to Kieren's neck. "Every little helps, eh?"

Kieren smiled, leaning in and pressing a lightning fast kiss to the older man's lips, before pulling away and moving to his place at the table. For a moment, he actually felt like the day could get better.

The moment didn't last long.

* * *

"This is nice," Simon said, and actually sort of meaning it. "Thank you."

The Walkers nodded in agreement. He felt Kieren's hand settle lightly on his knee and had to bite back a giddy smile. There was still plenty of awkwardness to go around, of course, but it was nice. Kieren's parents seemed okay (despite being neck-deep in denial of their son's condition), and they'd welcomed him into their home with relative ease. His eyes flickered to Steve. Certainly not the most intimidating father he'd ever seen. Especially not now, chatting about beef with a smile on his face while his undead son and dinner guest nodded along dutifully.

"_How's the fish?" a tentative voice asks, haggard face observing him._

"_It's good," a false smile as he picks half-heartedly at the food he can't eat. "Thanks, Dad."_

"_This haddock's a bit tough…" he says. He won't look at him now._

Simon shrugged the memory away. It wasn't helpful. He focused on the feeling of Kieren's hand on his leg and dragged himself back to reality with a smile as Steve continued his ramble.

"…Which, if previous experience is anything to go by, means any time between now and midnight!" he said jokily in explanation of his daughter's absence. He looked between the people at the table- the woman waiting to eat and the two men who weren't- and smiled awkwardly. "No point letting it get cold," he said, moving to dish out the food.

Simon nodded understandingly, keeping the smile plastered to his face. This wasn't awkward. Sitting next to his sort-of secret boyfriend, watching said boyfriend's parents eat while sitting rigidly to the side with nothing in front of him and nothing to do with his hands. Of course, what he'd really like to be doing with his hands right now involved the blond man beside him and would probably be inappropriate in present company. Better save it. Yep, definitely not awkward.

…Of course it was awkward. He rolled his shoulders slightly, leaning his hands on the table and clearing his throat, smiling pleasantly at Kieren's dad. "So, Steve, how did you and Sue meet?" he asked politely. That was the kind of question you asked people, right? To get the conversation rolling.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the right question to ask with the Walkers. Steve's face fell, and there was a moment of tense silence before he answered. "Work," he said briskly, returning to his meal without offering further explanation.

Feeling confused (not to mention terrified that he may have inadvertently stepped on some kind of land mine), Simon turned to Sue for an explanation.

"Work," she answered just as quickly, although she at least threw in a smile to put him at ease. He appreciated the effort, although he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just unknowingly made some kind of monumental _faux pas_ where the Walker family was concerned. He had just resolved to never, ever open his mouth again when Sue continued. "What about the two of you?"

Simon was too busy wondering what Sue meant by comparing him and Kieren to her and Steve in a question to offer an answer. Fortunately, Kieren was ready with a grateful smile and a reply. "Oh, same. Work."

Sue and Steve nodded, and the table fell silent once more. Simon realised he should probably just let it stay that way. That would probably be best. Just sit quietly. No more words.

"I liked the way he gave back," he said.

_Why?_

Steve stopped chewing, glancing between Simon and Kieren wordlessly. Sue smiled uncomfortably before diving back into her meal with renewed vigour. Simon could have sworn he saw the barest flicker of a smile on Kieren's face at the unintentional innuendo, but it was quite quickly replaced by mortification as he lifted his hand from Simon's leg surreptitiously.

_Fuck fuck fuck._

He was about to make an attempt to scavenge the situation, but fortunately the doorbell rang and Steve practically leapt to answer it.

_Saved by the bell. Literally._

As he watched Kieren's disappointed face and once again vowed to never speak in front of his family again for the rest of his extended undead life, the silence was broken by the tread of multiple pairs of feet by the door, followed by the sound of playful scuffling. He turned his head and cursed inwardly as he realised who Kieren's little sister had brought home with her.

Gary laughed with Jem as he shucked off her coat and flung it on the sofa. Their laughter died in their throats as they noticed who was sitting beside Kieren.

As Steve awkwardly introduced them, Simon considered getting up and leaving. He weighed up the pros and cons of just punching the bastard out right then and there. He calculated things he could say or do to get the ignorant sod to leave of his own accord.

Then he caught sight of Kieren's face. Sad, resigned. He was probably expecting something to kick off. Maybe he thought Simon would get up and leave him alone with his family and the unwelcome interloper. It was a reasonable assumption, it had been hard enough to sign him off on dinner with his family- an ill-mannered ex-HVF thug was never mentioned in the bargain.

With an inward sigh, Simon stood up and extended his hand. "Alright," he greeted the man neutrally. After a tense moment of consideration, Gary reached out and shook it.

Simon wished he had a camera so he could capture the look of surprise on Kieren's face.

They all sat down, Simon reclaiming his spot beside Kieren and regarding the brute across the table from him coolly, carefully pretending not to see the bastard wiping his hand on his jeans. Any other day he'd take pleasure in taking the man down a peg. Not today, not with Kieren next to him, silently pleading that everyone get along for a bit. This was no time to make a scene.

"There we are. More the merrier!" Steve said cheerily, in an attempt to cut through the heavy atmosphere of hostility at the table.

"Plenty to go round," Sue said, smiling as she set an extra place for Gary.

"Yeah, well- there would be, wouldn't there?" Jem chortled, and she and Gary burst into giggles.

_Drunk as a skunk, the pair of them, _Simon realised with annoyance. He'd never even met Kieren's sister before but already he could tell that Kendal was a bad influence on her. If she had any sense she'd drop him sooner rather than later.

Sue began shovelling food onto their plates, and still they giggled at their own not-so-private joke. Simon narrowed his eyes, regarding them steadily.

"Shall we keep it cool, guys," he said in a low voice, glancing at Sue. "While we're here?"

"No problem this end, pal," Gary said nonchalantly. Jem seized the opportunity to pinch several roast potatoes from his plate while he was distracted. "Oi! Cheeky sod," he laughed, Jem replying with a flirtatious smirk. Simon glanced at Sue, who seemed to be trying hard not to look appalled, and immediately felt his anger at the loudmouth couple intensify.

"Did you manage to get all of the knots out of the bunting, then, Mum?" Kieren asked conversationally, and Simon was just as grateful for the change of topic as she was.

"Finally," she said with a little smile. Jem was giving her a defiant look across the table as Gary stuffed his face, and Simon bristled. At least he and Kieren had had the decency not to strut their relationship- if that's what it was- in front of his parents and dare them to say anything about it (one accidental innuendo aside). Where possible he liked to exercise a little thing called tact.

"They keeping you busy, Sue?" Gary asked, his mouth still full of potatoes. Charming.

Steve helpfully fielded the question while Sue was staring at Gary's gaping mouth with something verging on disgust. "Sue's on the planning committee for the village fete. It's all go, isn't it?"

"There's plenty to do," she conceded, turning her gaze back to her own plate.

"Not helped by a certain Maxine Martin," Steve said pointedly, and Simon saw Sue briefly close her eyes and sigh. He was almost tempted to join her- given the present company, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say.

Gary immediately confirmed both their fears. "What's Maxine done?" he asked, almost defensively. Like a trained dog.

"She thinks the fete should have a stand commemorating the Rising," Sue explained quietly, focusing her attention on sawing her beef into bite size pieces.

"As if they haven't got enough to worry about," Steve said exasperatedly.

"Well, what's the problem there, Sue?" Gary asked, and Simon stiffened at the challenging tone. Almost as if he'd sensed his anger, Kieren's hand found its way to his knee again and squeezed reassuringly (or possibly warningly). He silently thanked him for the anchor.

"Most years we try to avoid anything divisive," Sue said gently, her eyes flickering to Simon and Kieren briefly. Simon met her gaze, nodding almost imperceptibly in an attempt to reassure her. He couldn't help feeling oddly protective of the woman. Then again, he'd always been more of a mother's boy.

_Another unhelpful thought. Forget it._

He turned his attention back to Gary's ignorant rambling (more like mumbling- bloody hell, he needed to enunciate), locking the thought away for later. He'd have plenty of time to dwell on it then.

"…Acts of valour an' that, Jem's here included," Gary said, smiling flirtatiously at the awkwardly smiling girl. "They should 'ave umpteen stands, all Jem's heroic deeds."

"Well, it's mainly jams," Sue said, a definite edge to her voice. She was quickly tiring of this conversation, and Simon couldn't say he blamed her.

Gary continued, talking mainly to Jem like Sue hadn't even spoken. "Have one for that time we were in the Kitson's place, remember that?"

Jem laughed through her mouthful of food, and Simon realised with dismay that that was all the encouragement Gary needed to continue talking. As the story went on, Steve desperately trying to turn the topic back to the food after every mention of undead brains exploding, Simon felt rage boiling up inside him. Only one thing kept him from vaulting the table and clocking the lout on the chin, and that something was squeezing his knee with an ever tightening grip as Gary continued spinning his gruesome yarn. Simon glanced at Kieren out of the corner of his eye, and his heart broke a little when he saw the look of bitterness on his gentle face. Simon tentatively shifted his own arm, resting his hand lightly over Kieren's on his knee and squeezing his knuckles reassuringly. His heart broke even more when Kieren wouldn't even look at him.

* * *

Kieren feels Simon's hand squeezing his, but he can't even bring himself to react right now. His gaze is fixed on Gary, his frown deepening as at every junction of the violent story not a single member of his family makes to call him out on his ignorance. Kieren looks at Jem and sees her annoyance with her date on her face, but she continues to fiddle with the food on her plate while he carries on his grisly retelling uninterrupted. His dad makes a few feeble attempts to change the subject to the supply of creamed leeks, but his efforts aren't enough to halt Gary's monologue. Sue sits quietly, the anger on her face remaining a silent rage. Not one of them speaks up, not even to hint that maybe he shouldn't be telling this story at a table with two undead diners. Kieren swallows- if his digestive system still worked he knew bile would be rising in his throat. He glances at Simon and realises that he has his head down and his teeth gritted. He doesn't want to make a scene, not in front of Kieren's parents. Kieren can't decide if he's grateful or annoyed that this is the one day Simon decides to adopt a less confrontational attitude.

Well. It was up to him, then, wasn't it?

"That what you did in the war, is it?" Kieren asked as Gary finished his story, his voice catching slightly as he fought past the rage. "Kill people?"

"Leave it," Simon said quietly, pressing down on his hand firmly. Attempting to ground himself as much as he was trying to ground Kieren, he imagined. Well, not today.

"No. No, I won't," Kieren snapped, pulling his hand away from Simon's sharply and turning his gaze back to Gary, feeling the anger rise up inside him. "I killed people, too."

Just like that he felt the spell break. The magical mist his family had been seeing him through, the haze of ignorance and denial that let them believe he'd harmlessly wondered the countryside until being scooped up by the authorities and medicated, was gone. It was all out in the open now. The damage was done. Might as well get it all off his chest now. "Funny story of my own, actually. I rose from the dead, and then after that I ripped people apart," he said bluntly, honestly, feeling his voice crack at the end of the sentence as guilt and relief flooded him.

"Kieren," Sue said quietly, but there was no stopping him now. He'd waited to long for this to back down now. He noticed Simon shifting around uncomfortably beside him, and realised he couldn't care less.

"Okay, maybe it's not that funny," Kieren conceded, shifting his position. "But you can sit there and listen to it anyway, like we did with you," he said firmly, eyes turning to Gary.

Gary glanced at Jem. Noticing her discomfort, he waved his fork at Kieren dismissively and turned his attention back to his plate. "Nah, you're all right, mate."

"Listen to the story," Kieren said fiercely, making all present jump to attention. Simon's mouth was hanging open slightly, his gaze fixed on Kieren's face. Kieren was too wound up to find it unsettling. He took a deep breath and smiled, and began telling the story of that first terrifying night of his new life like it was nothing more than an amusing anecdote.

"It's weird at first because all there is, is just darkness. It's so _dark, _doesn't make a difference if your eyes are open or closed. What you _think_ is that you've been buried alive."

"Kieren, please-" Steve beseeched, but Kieren ignored him. It was his turn to speak now.

"Not ideal," Kieren continued, laughing quietly at the immense understatement. "That's proper… proper panic, that, you know? You hit out at the lid of the coffin, even though you know there's _no way_. But then… it starts to give," his eyes glaze over slightly, his mind back in that coffin, his fingers once again clawing at the satin-covered wood with more desperation than he'd ever felt in his life. "You have to push your way through _all _the soil. Takes ages, doesn't it?" he vaguely directs the question at Simon, but continues before the dumbstruck man can answer. "It takes so long…"

Sue tried to interject again, but he was on a roll. They weren't taking this away from him.

"But all of a sudden… something's different," he said, lost again in the memory, reliving every second. "You feel the wind on the tips of your fingers, and the rain," he laughs slightly, humourlessly. "Because before that you're not really sure where you are, but now you _know_. And you're pushing through. And then all this _stuff _at once. The moon," he could have been there again, he could see the silver light shining in his mind's eye. "And this incredible storm blowing, and the clock chiming midnight, and you're just s_tanding _there, nobody else around, and all of it pushing into me…"

"No one else, are you sure?" Simon asks, fixing Kieren with his searching gaze.

"No, but d'you know what I felt-"

"Were any of the other graves open?" Simon insisted. Kieren might have spared a thought for the look of stunned realisation dawning on his face if he hadn't been so frustrated at being interrupted.

"No, the other graves are fine, I'm trying to say something," he said sharply, glancing at Simon in exasperation before returning to his story. "That feeling… it's like what being born must be like, except you've got _context_. Because honestly, dead…" he shook his head, trying to wrap his head around the impossible, enormous feelings. "Everything up until then… was fear."

Sue and Steve freeze, his words hitting them hard. "Everything," he realised it was the first time he'd ever told them both exactly how it had felt, living in Roarton when everyone hated him, being alive when Rick wasn't. Despite the cold feeling the word left in his stomach, he felt a heavy weight lift from his chest, the fist he'd kept clamped over his heart opening, spilling his secrets to the world and he couldn't bring himself to care. "Even when I was alive, just different levels of fear," he said, his head clearing for the first time since he'd rose. There were no secrets anymore- he would shout it from the rooftops, he would tattoo it on his cold, dead skin. His old life had been fear, and his new life was freedom. He found himself smiling, almost giddy with the memory of the thrill he'd felt crawling from his final resting place. As a boy he'd been scared of the creatures that went bump in the night- now he was one of them, and for the first time he was free.

"And then it's _gone,_" he said with a breathless laugh, shaking his head in awe, fire pumping through his veins as he basked in memories of the power he'd felt, the driving hunger that kept him alive and gave him more purpose than his first life had ever had. "And you're like: 'yeah, come on, give it to me, _fill me up!'_"

He turned his eyes back to Gary, leaning across the table and smiling, almost spitting the last words with undisguised glee. "And you know what, Gary, this hunger, this appetite. I could not _wait _to get started."

The table shook as Steve slammed his hand down onto it, jolting Kieren out of his exhilarated trance. "That's enough!" he bellowed, fixing Kieren with a reprimanding look. "Do you hear me? I will _not _have it."

Within seconds Kieren's elation was gone, replaced by angry bitterness he could no longer be bothered to disguise. "What, did I cross the line, Dad?" he asked incredulously.

"Kieren, please!" Sue pleaded, but Kieren wouldn't be silenced. Not like this, not again. He laughed humourlessly, gesturing to the silenced couple across the table from him.

"No, while they sit around and high-five each other about killing us like it's a big _joke?_ Oh, no, that's fine with everyone, I say _one thing _and that is indecent? I'm sorry, but that is _bullshit!_"

He leapt to his feet, the chair scraping across the floor behind him. He grabbed his jacket roughly, heading straight for the door. He couldn't stay another second in the same room as these people, not right now. "Come on, Simon."

Simon didn't seem to hear him. He was staring at the spot where Kieren was sitting, his face thunder-struck. Kieren glared at him.

"Come _on!_" he said again, louder this time, beginning to sweep away towards the door regardless of whether Simon chose to follow him or not.

He heard Simon mumble an affirmative and get to his feet, but he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to pay him much mind.

They still didn't understand. He got it now. Even in his own house, with his own family, he still wasn't separate from the lies and the double-standards. Even at a table with their undead son and brother, they would defend a man's right to share his 'heroic' tales of shooting zombies in the head before his right to discuss the night of his rising. The day his new life began would forever be a taboo subject, mentioned only in hushed whispers to others like himself. His family would always be happier if he pretended to be like them. To be normal.

He swallowed hard. Perhaps that's all his life was ever meant to be. One great big charade. That's what it had been when he was alive- telling his classmates his crush had been that girl he sat next to in biology, not mentioning the much stronger feelings he'd held for his popular best friend. Keeping those feelings hidden from the world even during his teenage years after they had been returned. Just pretending to fit into the niche that was assigned to him, and failing miserably the first time round. Seemed he didn't grow much better with experience.

His contacts were itching again. If he still had working tear ducts he'd think he was crying. He quickened his pace, the mousse on his face seeming to grow heavier and more suffocating with every step. Every day of his second life was a last-ditch attempt to fit into his pre-approved mould, and realising that he couldn't. He didn't want to. And what was more, no one else did either. It was all a scam, he could see it now. They gave them make-up and lenses to make them look more normal, then singled them out with bright orange bibs and pre-written lines to reel off to any human they so much as brushed past on the street. It wasn't a disguise at all, it was decoration. A way to make their waxen skin more palatable to the living. To them he was just a corpse, for them to dress up like a doll and to work for them like a slave.

They would never accept him.

How could they?

"Kieren?"

He stopped, and he heard Simon's feet stop behind him. He took a deep breath, looking up to the sky as the disciple moved to join him at his side.

Simon's pale face regarded him, his eyes still wide and disbelieving. But he softened his gaze for a moment when Kieren met his eyes. "Where do you want to go?"

Kieren considered the places he used to go. The cave where he'd seen Rick's living face for the last time and where his own first life had ended, the moor where he used to go to paint on cloudy days, the gravesite that was his first love's final resting place.

But they weren't places for him anymore. They were a relic of his past life, his human life. Those places didn't want him anymore, not the way he was. It was time for a fresh start, in a place where his lifeless body wasn't shamed and shunned.

He stared at Simon's face for a moment, then turned and kept walking.

"The bungalow," he said firmly.

* * *

_It's you. It's always been you._

It still seems so strange, so foreign. But at the same time, just so easy to believe.

He barely takes his eyes off the blond man the whole way back, still trying to wrap his head around the undeniable truth that was being presented to him. They'd taken a longer route, circling needlessly around town a few times until the sun began to set, but Simon didn't question it. Kieren needed to clear his head, and so did he.

_Kieren Walker. The First. The One._

Kieren barges straight into the bungalow without as much as a sideways glance to see if they were being watched. Even Simon can barely bring himself to glance into the living room before following him, eyes widening as he sees the younger man cut straight through the hallway to Simon's room. After checking the other rooms briefly for any sign of Amy and being satisfied that she's out, he enters his room to find Kieren pacing alongside the bed, his hands behind his head and his teeth gritted. The sun has set below the horizon, and the early evening moonlight is shining through the window, illuminating Kieren's hair and the side of his face in a silver glow.

_Beautiful._

Simon reaches up and flips the light switch. As the boy's face is thrown into sharp focus by the artificial light he catches his breath. He's never seen his face so conflicted. Angered and anguished, all in the same look.

He struggles to find something to say. Something comforting or reassuring, some kind of platitude to ease his pain. But he can't keep his head from spinning long enough to find it.

_The First. The One._

Kieren collapses onto the bed, his head cradled in his hands and his shoulders shaking, his dehydrated body trying to cry. Simon feels his heart wrench painfully, but still all he can do is look.

Kieren was special. He had always been special. Turns out he was special in a way that Simon had never even considered.

He'd never been able to believe that Kieren could want him- every time they kissed he felt his thoughts scrambled by the sheer impossibility that the beautiful, pure, incredible man could be his, or even close to his. Now he believed it even less.

Kieren's hands moved to his eyes. Simon thought he must be wiping at the corners- even after your body has stopped producing tears the need to brush them away is instinctual. Simon curses himself, realising he should be the one wiping his phantom tears away like he had that night in the rain, but all he can do is stand around uselessly.

But Kieren doesn't wipe his eyes. He reaches in, his fingertips brushing lightly beneath his eyelids and coming away slowly, the contact lenses on his fingers falling to the floor. He raises his head, his eyes closed as he turns his face to the light.

His eyes blink open. Simon forgets to breathe.

His natural eyes- vast, milky white expanses, the darkest speck in the centre still seeming to glow with life- survey himself in the mirror. He blinks slowly, unaccustomed to the freedom. He looks at his reflection for a long time, carefully neutral, neither a smile nor a frown crossing his face as he regards his eyes in their natural state.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reaches into his pocket. His hand emerges with a cloth clutched in his fingers. He raises it to his face, and Simon feels his eyes widening as he makes a long, deliberate stroke down his left cheek, the mousse coming away on the fabric and leaving a track of exposed white skin in its wake.

_Beautiful…_

Finally, Kieren realises Simon's been staring. He looks up at him for a moment as he wipes his face. He glances once more into the mirror.

He stands up, and Simon is pinned by his gaze. Kieren advances towards him, cloth in hand, until he comes to rest with his feet mere inches from Simon's, their eyes meeting across the short distance.

Kieren raises his hand, his eyes never leaving Simon's as he brings the cloth to the dark-haired man's cheek. Slowly, purposefully, he begins to wipe away the unfamiliar cover-up, exposing the ghostly skin beneath, his pale eyes searching Simon's earnestly.

Simon can't say a word. He's tongue-tied, his lens-darkened eyes looking on in awe as he feels the sludge cleaned from his face. The look in Kieren's eyes sends a thousand volts of electricity through his lifeless heart, and he tilts his head slightly to search his face for any sign that what he's witnessing is a trick or a joke, but he finds none.

Kieren, his eyes bare and his mask peeling, looking at Simon's face and wiping away the paint on the surface, willingly exposing his true nature for the world to see, his eyes boring into him with such intensity that Simon thought he might combust on the spot.

Because he wants to look at his face. His real face.

Simon lifts his hand slowly, as if in a trance. He levels it with his cheek, resting it gently over Kieren's hand and assisting him in clearing his face of the oppressive substance, their hands working together until his skin is clear. As Kieren's hand pulls away Simon keeps his grip on it, holding Kieren's gaze as he raises his free hand to his exposed face, removing his contacts one by one and flicking them to the floor along with Kieren's. When he feels like himself again he lifts Kieren's hand to his partially covered face, guiding the cloth in clearing away what remains of the mask. Kieren makes no move to stop him, his eyes never leaving his for a second.

When they are done, Simon takes the cloth from Kieren's unresisting hand, dropping it on the floor with the discarded contacts. He gazes at every exposed inch of the boy's face, a disbelieving smile lighting his face as he looks for the first time on Kieren's real self.

"Beautiful…" he whispers, his hand lifting to cradle his cheek. Kieren leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he breathes in deeply. Simon feels like his heart could burst, the love he feels for the man in front of him breathing new life into his lungs.

…_Love?_

Simon feels himself freeze up as the word offers itself up, feeling himself close off as his head catches up with his heart. A familiar fear coils in his gut- that terrifying fear of loneliness and rejection that accompanied him wherever he went, that he kept at bay with his prayers every morning and evening, following him like a plague.

The fear that had returned the day he first looked at Kieren's face.

He still remembers the fluttering in his stomach the first time he'd seen his face from across the graveyard. Amy had told him her BDFF was perfectly 'moregeous', but he hadn't quite believed it until that moment. Even coated in fifteen layers of cover-up his beauty had shone through. His dark eyes had searched Simon's face, looking him up and down with suspicion no other undead had ever shown him. Sizing him up.

That was the moment Simon realised he'd found someone special. For the rest of the day he'd found his thoughts returning to that appraising stare, full of a sharp cynicism he'd never before seen on such a young face. It was the face of a gentle soul who'd suffered too much. Seen too much.

With every well-warranted look of distrust the boy gave him, Simon felt the fear return. It didn't take him long to realise his prayers weren't enough to stave off the dread anymore. The only time he felt the burden lift was when he saw Kieren smile. Even during the incident at the GP's surgery, when he'd believed Kieren to be on the side of the humans, he had felt the pain like a stab to the heart as he'd returned the keys and felt Kieren's harsh gaze on his back.

Because there was what he believed. And then there was Kieren.

_The First. The One._

_No, not the First. Not right here, at this second._

_Just the One._

"Kieren," he rasps, his breath catching as the blond man's eyes open, delicate lashes fluttering. His eyes stare up at him, his cheek still leaning into Simon's hand tenderly. He sees the look on Simon's face and his pale eyes widen, almost in expectation of the words he was about to utter.

"Kieren," he says again, his free hand cradling the other side of Kieren's face, closing his eyes for a second as he pushes aside the fear that threatens to consume him. His grip tightens. His eyes open.

"Kieren, I…"

* * *

"_But I'm ready to question_

_That life is a blessing_

_So give me a sign_

_Am I following blind?_

_Is there anyone listening?_

_Is there anyone listening?_

_I don't know..."_

* * *

**...Yes, that really is how I'm gonna leave it.**

**Did I mention there were gonna be twelve chapters all in all? xD**

**Well, see ya next time! *runs away***


	4. Chapter Four

_**What's this? Is it a quick update? I THINK IT IS. (I didn't want to leave it too long after that ending I left you with last time, that was pretty mean, sorry :/)**_

_**Anyway, this chapter literally leaps right in after the last chapter ended (so maybe re-read at least the end of that one if you don't remember exactly how I so cruelly left it hanging), and this chapter is like 90% fluffy/steamy (and slightly angsty, not gonna lie) Siren since we're coming up to that unholy period of separation that was episode 5. So, enjoy the romance while you can! **_

_**BTW this chapter contains ALMOST smut (but not quite smut because honestly I am too goddamn asexual to make it work when I try writing porn, okay?), still, much getting naked and hot make-outs so hopefully not a complete disappointment :3 Not enough to make this an M, I don't think.**_

_**Enjoy! **_

_****__**DISCLAIMER: In The Flesh and all it's characters belong to Dominic Mitchell and BBC3. Song lyrics belong to the lovely Gabrielle Aplin. Direct quotes taken from the show belong to the original writers, I make no profit from this story and write it purely out of love for the series! :3**_

* * *

"_There used to be an empty space_

_A photograph without a face_

_But with your presence, and your grace_

_Everything falls into place_

_Just please don't say you love me_

'_Cause I might not say it back_

_Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping when you look at me like that_

_There's no need to worry when you see just where we're at_

_Just please don't say you love me_

'_Cause I might not say it back."_

-'Please Don't Say You Love Me', Gabrielle Aplin

* * *

Kieren's lips find his before he can finish the sentence. Hot, feverish, more so than a dead boy's should be. Simon's gasp echoes in the silence of the deserted bungalow, and words desert him as arms wind around his waist. His eyes flutter closed, his hands on the younger man's face sliding back to run through his fair hair gently, reverently. Kieren's grip tightens, pulling him closer.

"Kieren," he gasps when he breaks away to catch his breath, his eyelids heavy and his pinprick pupils blown wide with more love and lust than he knows what to do with as he tries to pick up the dangling thread of his incomplete confession. "I-"

His lips are busy once more as Kieren claims them again, his teeth biting down just enough to pull a low growl from Simon's throat. He gives up trying to speak, his arm pressing behind Kieren's shoulders urgently, holding him as close as he can can through the fifty or so layers of clothing the boy had deigned to wear that day. Simon had never been more frustrated at a person's clothing taste than he was at this moment.

Kieren pulls his head away slightly, pressing their foreheads together as he gasps for air out of sheer force of habit. He looks up at Simon through his eyelashes and the older man feels like having a heart attack. His blond hair hangs in ruffled disarray at his forehead, the bottomless pupils of his pearly eyes are vastly dilated, deeper and darker than space itself. His soft lips have been kissed swollen, warmed to an almost human shade of pink and twitching invitingly.

This time, it's Simon who takes the leap.

* * *

Kieren deepens the kiss gratefully, sliding one of his hands up to Simon's neck to hold him down to his lips, feeling a moan escape his own mouth only to be immediately swallowed by Simon's yearning lips. The fiery rush of pleasure racing through his body is almost enough to take his mind off the guilt.

Almost.

_He was about to tell you he loves you._

The hand gripping Simon's waist bunches the fabric of his shirt in a white-knuckled grip, and he blinks against the dry itch at the corners of his eyes. For once he is glad to be all out of tears to shed.

_He loves you._

Of course he did. Why he hadn't seen it earlier, he had no idea.

He wants to be happy. He wants to pull back and ask the dark-haired man to finish the sentence, and then he wants to say it right back.

But he doesn't want to lie. Not to Simon.

_You don't love him…_

He feels the truth like a sucker punch to the gut. He clings tighter to the tall, solid body in front of him, anchoring himself in pleasure and comfort as the knowledge wracks him with guilt.

_Of course you don't love him…_

He breaks away from Simon's intoxicating lips and presses his mouth against the dip of his collarbone, hiding his face as the Irish man's lips trail a path down his neck. Each kiss smoulders against his cold skin, even though he knows in his heart that Simon's body is just as cold and lifeless as his own. Despite that his mind conjures the phantom memory of burning kisses, trailing down his throat and making him shiver with anticipation. Perfect, adoring strokes, each placed with slow deliberation on his skin by the confident, caring man he now clings to like a lifeline. His shoulders shake, guilt warring with desire as he squeezes his eyes shut against the disciple's shoulder.

_But, Christ, don't you just _wish _you did…_

_If only things could be simple. Just this once._

"Kieren?"

Simon's voice is rough with desire, his eyes burn as Kieren meets his gaze. He feels his stomach flop, his cold, stiff muscles tingling as he feels the longing in Simon's eyes. Longing for _him. _The dark-haired man's eyes roam every inch of his pale face, lingering over every detail like he's admiring a masterpiece. Kieren's lifeless heart leaps.

He finds his lips once more, kissing him roughly, impatiently. He shrugs his top jacket from his shoulders, letting it slip carelessly to the floor as his arms find their way back to Simon's waist. Simon groans into his mouth, his hands picking up where Kieren's left off in shedding him of the excess layers, fumbling in his eagerness. With every layer that slides to the floor Kieren feels the distance between them shrink. Simon pushes against him, and Kieren finds himself being walked backwards across the room, the Irish man pushing the door shut roughly behind them. Before he knows it Kieren feels the bed against the back of his knees, and doesn't resist as Simon pushes him back onto it, following him down without ever once breaking the kiss.

He feels Simon's weight on top of him, supported only by the older man's arms on either side of his head, and almost chokes on the rush of lust that overwhelms him, like wildfire through his veins. His eager hands lift to the collar of Simon's shirt, fiddling clumsily with the top button and working his way down as the dark-haired man attacks his lips, leaving him light-headed.

The final button undone, he starts to push the intrusive layer of fabric down off Simon's body, hands gliding across his shoulder blades.

A surprised grunt escapes Simon's mouth, and his lips pause in their assault as he pulls away. His hand reaches back to seize Kieren's wrist and pull it from his shoulders, the shirt remaining loosely in place over his back.

"No," he rasps, kissing the scar on Kieren's wrist softly, apologetically. He clasps his hand between them, kissing along his arm gently, pressing his lips to the crease of his elbow and the curve of his shoulder remorsefully, eyes closing again. "Don't look there…"

Kieren swallows, his other hand sliding to Simon's waist tentatively. "I won't look," he says quietly, scared but also desperate to know what it is the secretive man wants to keep hidden. His hand drifts under the edge of the shirt, hesitating at Simon's hip. "Can I just…?"

Simon meets his gaze for a long, tense moment, his face conflicted. Is that fear in his eyes? Shame, even?

Finally, he nods. He buries his face in Kieren's neck as the boy's hand slides under the shirt, slowly tracing along his skin to the small of his back. He shudders, deeply inhaling the scent of Kieren's skin and hair as his long fingers brush the base of his scar.

Kieren finds the wound. He chokes as his fingers trace the ragged edges of the skin, counting the staples and stitches by touch. A dry sob escapes his throat, and he feels Simon nuzzle into his throat comfortingly as he reaches the top of the gash by the disciple's neck. He traces all the way back down again, and lifts his torso from the bed to press his lips to Simon's shoulder, collar, throat.

Simon closes his eyes. "Tell you about it, one day," he says quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Right now," he continues, voice lowering as he slides his hands beneath Kieren's hips. "I can think of plenty of ways I'd rather pass the time…"

Kieren shivers, Simon's voice like a caress. He clings to the muscles of Simon's back, carefully avoiding the ragged scar and pulling him down, pressing his body readily against his own and moaning as Simon traces his lips behind his ear and along his jawline. As he tilts his head back and Simon takes full advantage of the easy access to his neck, Kieren allows his eyes to drift closed.

_No, you don't love him. _

His breath hitches as Simon's arms wind tighter around him, his lips stroking his skin reverently.

…_Not yet._

* * *

Simon loses track of time. There is no time, not in here, not with Kieren beneath him and his gasping breaths in his ear. His hands wonder, tracing every line of the lean body below him and feeling a thrill of excitement every time he manages to draw a whimper from between the fair-haired man's parted lips.

_If I can't tell him I love him, I'll etch it into every inch of his skin._

He slides a hand to the small of Kieren's back, and any remaining string of coherent thought leaves him as the boy moans and bucks his hips. He groans, his mouth moving back up to claim Kieren's once more, their lips moving together as he grips his rocking hips with both hands, swaying in time to his movements and drawing the sweetest whine from Kieren's pink-tinged lips. He's on the verge of losing his mind as the boy's teeth dig softly into his lip. He feels feverish as one of those slender hands pulls out from beneath his shirt and goes to the back of his head, thumb stroking along his cheekbone and fingers burrowed into his hair. Kieren kisses him into such a trance that he barely even notices as he reaches back up to push his open shirt off his shoulders, but he keeps his promise and doesn't attempt to look at the scar on his back. Simon feels like sobbing in gratitude, but instead shows his appreciation with his lips on Kieren's neck, biting and sucking, moving downwards and teasing more whimpers from his throat. He feels fumbling hands fighting with his belt-buckle and grunts against Kieren's chest, temporarily releasing his hips in order to offer assistance.

After a minute of awkward scrabbling and breathless laughter, the last of their clothes fall to the floor. Kieren sits up suddenly, pulling Simon against his body and pressing his lips to his jaw and throat, returning the kisses Simon had been bestowing on him for longer than he could keep track of. Simon closes his eyes and sighs, combing his hands through Kieren's hair softly. His eyes flutter open as something occurs to him.

"Ever done anything like this before?" he asks quietly, his voice still rough.

Kieren shakes his head against his neck, his arms tightening around his waist. "No. Rick and I…" he gulps, his voice turns hoarse. "We never made it this far…"

Simon's heart aches for him. So young and already so unlucky in love. Only a child when he'd met the love of his life. Barely out of school when it had been taken from him. Only eighteen when he'd decided life wasn't worth the effort anymore. Simon understood what it was to feel like breathing in and out was a pointless endeavour with no end-game reward, but that was just how he was programmed, etched into his DNA just as much as his blood type or the colour of his eyes. It was a state of mind he'd grown to live with, at least from one day to the next. But not even the collected archives of his wretched existence saddened him more than visualising a young, happy Kieren Walker- eyes still shining, voice full of hope- and wondering exactly how long it had lasted before life had turned cruel.

Simon had known the world for a sham from the day he could think. Kieren had learned it the hard way.

_Except, the world isn't a _complete _fuck-up, is it? You know that now._

He kisses Kieren's head and neck softly, comfortingly.

_How could angels exist in a godless universe?_

Kieren pulls his face away from Simon's neck, closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. Simon just gazes at him, captivated by the way his lips tremble and his eyelashes twitch.

"Hey," he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Kieren's nose and smiling at the boy's bemused expression. He'd probably been expecting more kissing of the passionate making-out variety, friendly pecks were quite an abrupt change of pace. Nevertheless, Simon just smiles tenderly, winding his arms around the young man's lean waist and tugging him gently onto his lap. "Take it slow, okay?"

Kieren nods, gulping back the dry feeling in his throat. "Yeah," he says quietly, his arms draping over Simon's shoulders. "Yeah, okay. Honestly, I didn't even know we could, um…" he chews his lip and makes a vague gesture between them, and Simon has to bite back a chuckle. "I thought, I don't know, I thought that might be… difficult."

Simon shrugs, pressing a gentle kiss to the fair-haired man's irresistible bottom lip (well, if he insists on nibbling on it like that with Simon _literally _right below him!). "Well, it is different, we have some biological… hindrances, now, for sure. What with the…" he considers how to phrase it. "…insufficient blood flow, and that."

Kieren eyes widen and he glances down at their laps as something occurs to him. "Fuck. I didn't even think about… well, fuck."

He looks away in embarrassment, and Simon kisses the cheek closest to him with a smile. "Yeah," he mutters, his brow furrowing. "Y'know, I didn't think of that either…" he says, and smirks. "Guess I got carried away- heat of the moment…"

Kieren laughs almost dizzily as the ridiculousness of their situation catches up to his lust-addled brain. "Well," he huffs, and Simon hears the note of disappointment in his voice. "Suppose that kind of throws a spanner in the works, eh?"

Simon grins wickedly, tightening his arms around the boy's slim body. "Well, I don't know about you but I have a mouth and ten working fingers," he purrs suggestively, brushing his lips over Kieren's chest in a very _persuasive_ manner and feeling him shiver. "The possibilities are endless…"

Kieren would have blushed beet red if he still had a pulse (oh, if only). He swats at Simon's arm reproachfully, but makes no effort to pull away. "Simon!"

Simon rests his cheek against Kieren's chest and looks up at him, smiling languidly. "Hey, no worries- slow, remember?"

To his absolute delight, Kieren's frowning mouth twitches into a grin. He swoops down into another kiss, and Simon is only too happy to let him take control this time, matching his slow pace with a new kind of simmering desire- smouldering embers in comparison to the roaring flames they'd experienced, but no less intense. Kieren pushes him back down onto the mattress and lies draped across him, hands clinging to his waist as the kiss deepens. Simon reaches up to cup his face in his hands, feeling like he could just melt into Kieren's embrace.

_He doesn't love you._

He'd known that for a long time, but from the moment Kieren had cut off his confession it had become an undeniable truth. Whatever it was Simon felt for him, it was not mutual. But the more he thinks about it, the less it upsets him. Of course Kieren doesn't love him. The very notion was ridiculous. They had barely known each other a week, he was still in mourning over Rick Macy, he was still burdened with the guilt of feeling like a traitor to Amy…

_And he's too good for you._

Simon banishes the thought, returning Kieren's kisses with increased fervour, the younger man humming appreciatively above him.

That doesn't matter right now. What matters isn't whether his feelings are returned, now or ever. Right now, the only thing on his mind is Kieren Walker, and the sweet noises he's making as Simon makes him feel something beyond the dead silence of his own heart.

Kieren isn't ready to say the words, or to hear them for that matter, but right now Simon doesn't care. It was a mistake to try to bring it up the first time, he should have known that he wasn't ready yet, but he won't make that error again. He won't rush judgement or tempt fate.

If he has even a chance in Hell of being loved back one day, he'll wait as long as it takes.

It wasn't like he was going anywhere any time soon.

* * *

Once he'd finally managed to catch his breath, Kieren felt like he could happily drift into a deep sleep and stay that way all winter. He snuggled his head into the pillow, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he felt Simon's arm drape across him from behind, cold skin heated to a cosy room temperature by their various… activities. He blinked his heavy eyelids and focused drowsily on Simon's hand, lying on the mattress right in front of him. And my, my, what a hand. Kieren almost blushed again just thinking about it.

"I can smell your hair a-burnin'," Simon mumbled, and Kieren couldn't help jumping slightly. He felt Simon smile against his neck, and saw his fingers twitch invitingly. "S'not gonna hold itself, y'know," he said teasingly, laying his hand palm-open on the covers.

Kieren raised his eyebrow and stared at the proffered hand cautiously. "Actually I feel like just looking at it's going to get me pregnant."

Simon chuckled wryly. "But you're dead. And a man."

"You underestimate its power," Kieren said, but smiled and twined his fingers with the disciple's. He felt the Irish man snuggle closer to his back and fiddled pensively with their interlocked digits, his mind wondering back to its original thought patterns from before he'd found himself so gloriously distracted. He chewed his lip uncertainly as the dizzying hormones cleared and he could think straight again.

_Well. Where do we go from here?_

He found himself making a mental checklist of the things he knew, and his spirit sank further with each bullet point.

_Simon is in love with you._

_You are not in love with Simon._

_Amy probably _is _in love with him._

_But even if you don't feel that way about him right now he makes you feel good and you're not about to break it off._

_This will probably result in Simon and/or Amy getting hurt._

_You're screwed._

_Also he accidentally made a sex joke in front of your parents._

Kieren groaned softly as memories of that disastrous lunch came flooding back. Perhaps if it had just been two hours of awkward silence and unintentional innuendos he'd have been able to forget about it, but that wasn't all it was anymore.

Simon squeezed his hand, nuzzling the back of his neck. "What's wrong?" he murmured in response to Kieren's troubled groan.

The fair-haired man shut his eyes against the rising panic. "My parents…"

He didn't elaborate, but Simon understood. He kissed his shoulder and tightened his arm around his torso, holding him close. "It'll be fine. Anyway, that's tomorrow's problem."

"Well, today's," Kieren muttered, glancing at the clock that read 1:06 a.m. and narrowing his eyes. How long had they been there? They really _had _lost track of time. Christ, if he still had working blood vessels his face would be verging on crimson.

Simon sniggered and it brought a smile to Kieren's face. He never heard Simon laugh in front of anyone else, it was like a little part of himself that he brought out especially for him. It felt selfish to enjoy that, but the thought warmed his decrepit heart more than he cared to admit.

"It'll be okay," Simon comforted, glancing out the window. "Just said what's on your mind is all. They'll get used to it."

Kieren grimaced, gripping Simon's hand tighter. "Not so sure about that."

"Well, they're gonna have to," Simon said firmly, leaning up on his elbow so he could look at Kieren's face. Kieren tried not to be distracted by his dishevelled hair (which he had probably had a decent hand in ruffling), but when he looked down on him like that with the same intensity that had got them into this position in the first place it was hard not be side-tracked. He smiled down at him, keeping his elbow planted and moving his hand to the back of Kieren's neck. "You shouldn't have to hide who you are," he murmured, tracing small circles on Kieren's skin with his thumb and smiling seductively. "Especially not when _what_ you are happens to be fucking gorgeous."

Kieren rolled onto his back, keeping Simon's hand clasped to his chest and smirking back at him. "'Fucking gorgeous', eh?"

Simon raised his eyebrow. "You sound surprised."

Kieren couldn't find an answer to that, not right now. That was a whole other thing to agonise over, and he had quite enough on his mind already without throwing questions of self-image into the mix. He glanced at the clock again and made to sit up, releasing Simon's hand.

"I should go," he said, scanning the room to find his clothes- he hadn't been paying much attention when they'd first been peeled off. "I don't know if Amy's back yet or not but we'll have a hard time explaining this to her if-"

Simon gripped his shoulder, halting him. His eyes flickered to the clock and then back to Kieren, but he looked down at his chest instead of his face. Kieren could tell he was trying to hide the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, and suddenly he felt guilty all over again.

"Stay? For a while," Simon said softly, more question than command.

Kieren hesitated. It would be best to leave- then he could be out of the bungalow without Amy noticing he'd been there, he could be home in time to catch a few hours of sleep before breakfast with the family, maybe if he resumed the normal morning routine they wouldn't bring up the lunch and he could get away without confrontation.

Then again, that would mean sleeping in his cold, narrow, lonely bed, as opposed to sleeping cosily beside Simon in the double they'd spent the last few hours _thoroughly _warming up. There really wasn't much contest. Besides, he felt like he owed it to Simon to at least stay a few hours. He didn't want to give him the impression that he was using him for his own ends- what had Simon bitterly called it after that first kiss, 'stress relief'?- only to get up and leave as soon as they were done. God knows he knew how it felt to be brushed off. All those nights when he and Rick would get drunk and mess around, feeling like they were the only two people in the world, only for Rick to sneak home guiltily with a cover story for his dad's benefit. He understood why he did it, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

So he lifted his hand to Simon's chin, lifting his face so he'd look into his eyes, and smiled. "Okay."

Simon's eyebrows practically shot up into his hairline. "Really?"

Kieren rolled his eyes, slumping back to the bed and gathering the pillow up to his chest, closing his eyes. "Yes, _really_. But I'm tired and I have to get up early, so clean thoughts and hands off!"

He could tell from the sound of his voice that Simon was grinning. "Yes, sir," he said, flopping back down beside Kieren and looking into his eyes, raising his arm and letting it hover. "Now, when you say, 'hands off'…?"

Kieren bit back a grin. "Cuddling's fine."

"Couldn't agree more," Simon mumbled, once again wrapping his arm around Kieren's torso and pulling him as close as the pillow clutched in the boy's arms would allow. He pressed his lips against Kieren's hair and smiled, inhaling the scent from his strawberry blond tufts. Kieren nuzzled into him, resting his cheek on the pillow and his forehead against the dark-haired man's chest, sighing contentedly.

_Don't lie, Walker- you could get used to this._

A sleepy smile spread across his face as Simon's hand rubbed his back, and he drifted into slumber with the sound of Simon's breathing in his ears and one last sluggish thought in his head.

_Maybe one day you will…_

* * *

It took mere moments for Kieren's breathing to level out, another minute and he was practically comatose. Simon smiled into his hair, breathing in the scent deeply. They didn't sweat anymore or really have a natural odour of any kind (besides a lingering earthy aroma from their time in the ground, of course), but nevertheless there was something so _Kieren _about the other scents that clung to his hair and clothes- traces of oil paints and acrylics, the subtle musk of ink and paper that accompanied new stationary, he must be getting through a sketchbook a week. Simon knew he wouldn't sleep- not when he didn't know when he would get a chance to be this close to Kieren again- so he just enjoyed the scent of his hair and the feeling of his breath against his chest, looking over his head as he watched the sky darken ever further outside.

_It's always darkest before the dawn._

He glanced at the clock, only just realising what time it was. It was past two in the morning, and he'd been lying beside the slumbering boy for at least an hour. The dark night sky would start to lighten soon, possibly in the next few hours. The impenetrable blackness had started to shimmer as the first flakes of snow drifted to the ground, barely strong enough to settle.

There was something Simon had to do.

He slowly rose from the bed, making every effort not to shift or jolt the peacefully sleeping man. When he'd reluctantly pried himself from his side, he fished around on the floor for his clothes, finding them scattered amongst Kieren's many shed layers. The search was fairly simple as they'd both been so caught up in each other that neither of them had bothered to switch off the overhead light all evening. Amy wouldn't appreciate the energy bill this month- Simon swore to himself that he'd pay her back when he could.

Once he was fully clothed he turned back to the bed, and realised that Kieren hadn't so much as stirred. He really _must _have tired him out. He tiptoed over and pulled the rumpled blankets up to cover the fair-haired man's naked form, for some extra security in case he woke up alone- although Simon hoped with all his heart that he'd be back before then. He didn't want him to think he'd been abandoned.

_And you'd rather not try to explain where you went._

He crouched by the bed, watching Kieren's sleeping face intently, those words he'd banished from his mind for the night returning.

_The First._

He gazed in wonderment at his serene features, and felt his lips curve up into an adoring smile.

_Beautiful._

He stood up, reluctantly tearing his gaze away. He crept towards the door, tugging it open softly and looking back over his shoulder as he flipped the light switch. He wished he could just curl right back up in bed when he saw Kieren's face bathed in silver moonlight. But he turned his back and closed the door, silently promising to be back soon. This wouldn't take long.

He exited into the chilled night air, and spent a second lamenting the fact that his breath was no longer warm enough to mist in front of him. He always used to love that. He buried his hands in his pockets, setting out into the bleak streets with a purposeful stride, brought on both by his dedication to his duty and his desire to crawl back into the sleeping Kieren's embrace. He really had no time to waste on either matter.

Several empty streets away, he found an old phone booth. He strode towards it, pulling open the door and ducking into the temporary shelter as he fished in his pockets for change. He could have used the phone at the bungalow, but he didn't want the number to be recognised or the call to be intercepted. Besides, he and Amy didn't get too many calls- most likely she hadn't even bothered to pay the phone bill since they'd returned to Roarton. Chances were he would have picked up the receiver and been greeted by nothing but empty static.

He dropped the change into the slot and dialled the number he knew by heart, picking up the handset and holding it to his ear as the first rings echoed in the snow-clad silence. He tapped his fingers beside the keypad, a mixture of impatience and apprehension. He knew what he was going to say- a simple 'I've found the First Risen' would suffice. But he didn't know what the reply would be. Would he get his next instructions right then and there or would they leave him hanging until they could arrange a meeting? And what would his next orders be?

_Go to the place where the First rose, and seek them out._

Great, he'd done that. But what now? What would be his orders regarding the First Risen (who was currently curled up in his bed, sleeping soundly with no idea of what he was up to. Fuck.), and what would he need to do to carry them out?

The way the Undead Prophet talked about the First Risen, he sounded like some kind of Messiah- a beautiful, inhuman being, who was destined to lead the Redeemed to liberation. Simon quite liked that idea. Kieren Walker, striding out tall and proud, his natural face shining in the light as he led his kind to their salvation, and God, would he look beautiful, light and power rolling from his presence. That was the kind of revolution Simon would die again to be a part of, a powerful new purpose for his second life, a duty to his faith and to his love.

As the phone continued to ring in his ear, he closed his eyes and prayed to his newfound deity that the two causes could coexist.

Finally, someone picked up. There was no voice on the other end, but Simon knew who was there. He took a deep breath, and spoke.

"I've found the First Risen," he said.

But he couldn't bring himself to stop there.

He turned his head, looking back in the direction of the bungalow and the bed, and the peacefully sleeping form bathed in moonlight. The barest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You should see him," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"He's beautiful."

* * *

"_And fools rush in_

_And I've been the fool before_

_This time I'm gonna slow down_

'_Cause I think this could be more_

_The thing I'm looking for"_

* * *

**_Well, I hope you enjoyed that, because we're probably not gonna get them together like that for quite some time- sadly I am sticking pretty close to the canon (aside from one quite MAJOR change- which you can all probably guess, tbh- that will take place later)._**

**_I'm sorry if I don't update this for a while, but as well as a prompt fill that I've left unfinished for ages I'm also working on a collab fic with some people (which is gonna be stupid, hilarious AND smutty, thank you very much!), so I've got a lot on my plate! Will update when I can though :)_**

**_Until next time! :D_**


	5. Chapter Five

**_I'm back, baby! :D_**

**_Sorry this has taken so long- I have A LOT on my plate fic-wise at the moment! I'm even hoping to get back to my suspended Sherlolly soon so my load's not gonna lighten anytime soon xD So if I ever take a long time to update, I promise I haven't forgotten about you- I just have a lot of things that need writing right now!_**

**_So, we have a nice long chapter for you this time- very angsty and Kieren-centric. We'll have more Simon next time, I promise!_**

**_Have fun! (or not...)_**

**____****__****DISCLAIMER: In The Flesh and all it's characters belong to Dominic Mitchell and BBC3. Song lyrics belong to the lovely Gabrielle Aplin. Direct quotes taken from the show belong to the original writers, I make no profit from this story and write it purely out of love for the series! :3**

* * *

"_Something's happening you can't see_

_We are rolling on stormy seas_

_You don't like when I disagree_

_The lies you're spinning, you're changing me_

_All that glitters is not gold_

_From the bruises flowers grow"_

-'Keep On Walking', Gabrielle Aplin

* * *

Simon woke to the sound of fabric rustling. He blinked sleepily, his eyes adjusting to the cold winter sunlight shining through the window. Something was missing.

"Kieren?" he asked, eyes lingering on the empty space on the bed beside him.

"Over here," the hushed voice came from behind him, and Simon rolled over onto his other side with a smile.

Kieren was rooting around on the floor, scooping up his various discarded clothes and groaning as saw how noticeably rumpled they were. He'd have a fun time explaining that to his parents. The fair-haired man was half-naked, so far clad only in his crumpled pair of too-big skinny jeans, and Simon tried not to drool at his bare chest and back as he bent over to search for his other sock.

The boy noticed his leering and smirked as he straightened up, pulling on the first of his many shirts. "Why don't you take a picture? It lasts longer."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Is that a genuine offer? 'Cause I might take you up on it."

And just like that, Kieren was flustered again. He mumbled something unintelligible and hastily returned to getting dressed, flopping down onto the edge of the bed to pull on his socks and boots. He was busy tying the laces- frantically loosened and left in a tangle the night before- when Simon sat up, draping an arm around his shoulders and kissing his cheek in greeting.

"Mornin'," Simon mumbled, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck.

Kieren relaxed, smiling softly and leaning in as his feet fell back to the floor. "Morning."

"Sleep well?" Simon asked, pressing his lips to the younger man's collar bone tenderly.

Kieren nodded, slinging his arm around Simon's waist and resting his chin against his hair. "Like the dead. Literally."

Simon snorted, pulling back to look at his face with a grin. "D'you use that joke every morning?"

The boy smiled but shook his head, picking up his jumper and pulling it over his head. "Nah. Always wanted to, but… well, the death jokes don't go down too well with the folks."

That, Simon could imagine. The stony silence after his little crack about their 'top three meals we don't eat' spoke volumes. It was a shame- he wondered how frustrated Kieren must get at having to keep his innate knack for sarcasm in check. It must have been maddening.

He smiled, resting his hand on Kieren's knee. "Well, round here you can make as many morbid puns as you want, I won't say a word."

Kieren looked at him and grinned mischievously. "Dead men tell no tales?"

Simon laughed, leaning in to plant a kiss on his beaming lips. "That's the spirit!"

He leaned back, but Kieren's arms wrapped around his neck before he could get very far. He grunted in surprise as he was pulled into another kiss, deeper this time. He didn't fight it, melting gratefully into his embrace and cupping his uncovered face in his hands- partly to stop himself from reaching down and once again removing all the clothes the man had spent the last ten minutes putting back on. The temptation was almost overwhelming.

He blinked as Kieren pulled away, attempting to sort his thoughts back into any kind of coherent form. "Keep doing that and there's no way I'm letting you leave this room," he said gruffly, feeling heat coursing through his cold veins once more.

Kieren smiled, kissing him again as he reached back to pull on his jacket.

"As amazing as that sounds," he said between kisses, slowly getting up from the bed with Simon following. "I'll be in some serious shit if I don't get back soon- I'm in trouble enough as it is…" his voice trailed off as Simon continued kissing him, his hands trailing down the disciple's naked sides. He shook his head, grunting as he pulled away and put his hands on the Irish man's shoulders to put some distance between them. "'Sides, it'll be time for my dose soon."

"Got plenty of the stuff here," Simon said temptingly, nipping Kieren's neck gently above the collar of his jacket.

Kieren shook his head, although he sounded disappointed. "Cheers, but I think I'll stick to the proper stuff," he said, reluctantly pushing Simon away and smiling bravely. "Not sure I fancy taking my chances with the home brew."

Simon rolled his eyes, bending down to pick up his discarded trousers and pretending not to notice the blond man's wandering gaze as he did so. He pulled them on and fastened his belt, fairly assured that he didn't stand a chance of sweet-talking the already fully-dressed man back into bed this morning. Maybe later.

"Simon, you listening to me?" Kieren said grumpily, smacking his shoulder and snapping him out of his fantasies. Simon blinked, banishing all the perfectly impure thoughts from his head and looking at Kieren's expectant face blankly.

The younger man rolled his eyes, gesturing towards the door. "You gonna check if the coast is clear or what?"

Simon glanced to the door and back in confusion a few times before realisation dawned. Amy, that's right. Technically, they were still sneaking around. Christ, they certainly could have gone about this whole business better. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," Simon mumbled, pulling on his shirt and standing up. He reached for the door handle and made sure Kieren was safely out of sight behind the door, offering him a smile before he emerged into the hall.

Amy's door was closed. It had been ajar the night before, the lights off and the bed empty. She must have crept home in the wee hours, possibly not long after he'd snuck back to bed himself. He pressed his ear lightly against the door. Silent as the grave.

"Coast is clear- just keep it down," he murmured after a quick check of the other rooms. Kieren emerged quietly from his shelter behind the bedroom door and made a beeline for the exit, Simon close on his heels.

Kieren stepped out into the pre-dawn light, smiling at the fine layer of snow on the ground.

"Won't last," he said, kicking a fine layer of powder off the step. "Never get proper snow round here. Rain washes it away before long."

"Jesus," Simon muttered, chuckling quietly. "This place can't even handle perpetual winter properly."

"That's Roarton!" Kieren said brightly, turning to smile up at the disciple from the bottom step. "Disappointing. In pretty much every possible way."

"Oh, I dunno," Simon smiled, putting a hand on Kieren's neck and craning his head down towards him. "It definitely got something right," he murmured, staring into Kieren's eyes. Eyes he hadn't bothered to cover with lenses today.

Kieren smiled, lifting a hand to Simon's cheek and tilting his head back, standing on tiptoes to meet his lips. Simon kissed him back gratefully, allowing himself to be moved as Kieren tugged him down to the next step.

When Kieren pulled away, he reached out to take Simon's hand. Simon squeezed his fingers reassuringly as Kieren's gaze wondered off past him, back towards the house where his family was waiting. He chewed his lip nervously, looking down at their joined hands as if hoping to draw strength from the contact.

"Hey," Simon said softly, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. "It'll be fine."

"Don't even have my cover-up on," Kieren said, his eyes widening as if the thought had only just occurred to him.

"It's a good look on you," Simon said, grinning flirtatiously. He wrapped his arm around Kieren's shoulders, pulling him against his chest. Kieren pressed his face against his shoulder and snaked an arm around his waist, breathing in deeply. Even with no actual need for the oxygen, deep breaths seemed to be an immense source of comfort for the fair-haired man, as if the feeling of air flowing through his decrepit lungs kept him grounded. Perhaps that was his anchor.

Kieren pulled back, taking one more deep breath and releasing Simon's hand. He leaned in to press one last lightning-fast kiss to the Irish man's lips, and departed with one last brave smile. Simon waved after him, pushing down the painful sense of separation as the distance between them grew. He watched the younger man's uneven steps carry him away, wishing he could run after him. But this was something Kieren needed to do on his own. Besides, he had work to do.

He looked down at the door mat. He'd glimpsed something on his way out of the bungalow, but he had to wait for Kieren to leave before he could be sure. But there it was, plain as day, a small corner of white paper poking out from the door mat, exposed by Kieren's kick to the surrounding snow.

Simon crouched down, lifting the edge of the mat and gently tugging the corner of the envelope, being careful not to tear through the damp paper as he worked it out from its hiding spot.

Orders from the top.

* * *

Kieren made it home without a hitch- so long as he kept his hood pulled up and his shoulders hunched no one noticed the lack of cover-up. It was too early for anyone at home to be up, although he suspected that one or both of his parents were probably lying awake in bed. He took the stairs as quietly as possible- no way he wanted to run into anyone looking like he did. If he woke up Jem at half five in the morning she'd shoot him on sight, contacts or no contacts.

He made it to his room and shed his jacket, flopping down onto the bed with a sigh. He stared up at the ceiling and put his hands behind his head. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to scowl bitterly or grin from ear to ear.

_Well, you have little or no faith left in your family (or humanity in general), you're still sneaking around behind Amy's back, and let's face it that's not even the tip of the iceberg._

_Still, on the bright side: that was a pretty fucking fantastic night, was it not?_

Just this once, he allowed the happy thoughts to take precedence. He needed a break from the doom and gloom. His gaze wondered to the wall, all the portraits he'd painted over the years. Amy's face beamed down at him from several places, and Jem's. His mum, his dad, Rick.

Someone was missing.

With a grin, he leapt up and went for his art supplies, fishing out a sheet of paper and some charcoal. Despite the fact that he'd barely managed three hours of sleep, he didn't feel like he could lie still for even a second.

He didn't usually like to draw people from memory. But hey, with the amount of time he'd spent staring at that face last night, he might as well take a shot.

* * *

As the weak winter sun rose in the sky and the Walker family began their morning routine, Kieren remained in his room with his hands stained by charcoal. He looked over his handiwork, smiling as he pinned it to his wall by the lamp. Not half bad, considering he'd had no model. Simon's pale face, picked out with delicate lines of black and grey charcoal, smiled down at him. In all honesty he would have liked to sketch him wearing that seductive grin that made him melt, but he knew there was no way to do that little devilish smirk justice without having it in front of him as he drew. Christ, did he wish it was in front of him now.

Over the quiet shuffle of feet in the kitchen, Kieren heard a loud knock on the front door drift through the house. He glanced at the clock on the wall with a frown- quarter past seven, who would be knocking at this hour? Images of Simon popped unbidden into his head and he bounded to the window, tugging the curtain aside slightly and looking down at the driveway to see a woman walking quickly away. A moment later his dad emerged from the house, a flyer clutched in his hand as he confronted the woman.

It was impossible to make out the words on the paper from his vantage point, but Kieren knew what it was. He'd seen enough of the things pasted around town to recognise the pro-living propaganda when he saw it. He frowned down at his dad, who was staring after the now retreating woman with an expression somewhere between anger and fear.

_Fear?_

As Steve made his way back to the house he glanced up at Kieren's window, and his eyes met his son's for a moment before the fair-haired man let the curtains fall closed once again.

For a moment Kieren was too bitter to care that his father had glimpsed him in his natural state. He'd hoped that maybe his own dad would put up more of a fight. Maybe he would hand the flyer back and politely tell the woman to stuff it, stand up for his son in some small way. But no. As she flounced away to spread her toxic literature across the town, Steve had just watched her walk away with the paper dangling limply in his grasp. Cheers, Dad.

Shaking his head and gritting his teeth, Kieren left his room, his feet automatically carrying him to the bathroom as the rush of air from the slamming door rustled the edges of Simon's portrait.

As he approached the sink he reached for a towel and flung it over the mirror, hating himself ever so slightly for it. Well, it wasn't like one wild night would be enough to revamp his entire personality, right? He may have let the mask drop for Simon, but he wasn't quite ready to do that for himself yet. He couldn't help it, seeing the ghostly whites of his dead eyes was still so… unnerving.

_Why?_

His hand, which had been dabbing mousse onto a make-up sponge, slowed its movements and ground to a halt. He stared ahead at the flat, blank surface of the towel, his hands hovering over the sink with the sickly cover-up.

He had no problem seeing Simon with his natural face on show. In fact, he preferred it. Seeing his skin coated with cover-up that day had been horrible, something about it felt so wrong, so false. Why could he gaze into Simon's milky eyes for hours, but barely even glance at his own?

He sighed heavily, dropping the pot of mousse and raising his hands to his face, pushing his fingers back through his hair as the staring match with the covered mirror intensified.

Despite all his big talk at the table yesterday, despite his silent resolution to stop caring, he really couldn't give up trying to fit in that easily, could he?

_Old habits die hard._

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a long, endless vicious circle. People didn't respect you until you respected yourself. You can't respect yourself until you accept yourself. He couldn't even begin to accept himself when no one else could. On and on, the cycle repeats itself. He'd spent enough time playing this game in his first life to know how it always ended.

Maybe this time it could be different…

He turned away, leaving the towel on the mirror and the mousse on the shelf.

Maybe he wasn't done hiding from himself just yet.

But he was sure as Hell done with hiding from everyone else.

* * *

Kieren tried not to feel hurt at the fear in his father's eyes as he emerged from the hallway into the living room. But the horror in his parents' expressions was nothing compared to the metaphorical stab to the gut as Jem stood up and walked out, yelling over her shoulder.

"I can't look at him when he's like that!" she called, disappearing into the kitchen without so much as a backwards glance.

Kieren felt his throat close up as he took his place at the table, his father's scared gaze on his face. He'd hoped that maybe Jem would be the most… well, obviously he'd had that wrong.

"What's going on, son?" his father asked, worry in his voice.

"Nothing, Dad," Kieren answered, glancing at his mum for support and seeing wide eyes brimming with anxiety. He curled in on himself, already wishing the ground could swallow him up. Jesus, and this was his own _family! _As the doorbell rang and his dad hastily ran to answer it, Kieren wished more than ever that Simon was beside him- not necessarily to say or do anything, just to be there. A steady presence, an anchor. He took a deep breath, looking away from his mother's face and down at the table.

_It's okay. It's okay, you're fine. Just stay inside today, just with the family, get used to it. Baby steps._

"Kieren Walker."

He turned his head, frowning as he saw Dean Halton in full RPS uniform advancing towards him.

"Yer under arrest."

"Arrest?" Sue asked, eyes wide. Kieren stared at Dean, his hands gripping the sides of his chair.

"GP's were broken into yesterday," Dean explained at Sue's confused look, brushing past her to where a stunned Kieren was sitting. "Rabids were let loose. They attacked the receptionist- she's in hospital."

"Jesus!" Steve exclaimed, looking between his son and Dean with an expression somewhere between horror and distrust.

Kieren gaped at Dean, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. "I didn't break into the GP's!"

"Not me who needs convincing," Dean said almost apologetically as he grabbed Kieren's arm and pulled him from his seat at the table. Kieren barely struggled, still too confused and incredulous to say a word as he was dragged to the door.

"Hey, where're you taking him?" Sue demanded, rising from her seat and following the RPS grunt and his captive.

"Parish Council wanna question 'im," Dean answered over his shoulder without much enthusiasm, talking over Sue's objections. "Orders from Ms. Martin, I've got to bring 'im in."

Kieren waited for more protests, and a cold dread washed over him when he realised none were forthcoming. He looked back at his parents over his shoulder as Dean dragged him out, his white eyes wide with fear and disbelief as he saw them looking on silently. "Mum?" he asked, crying out as Dean dragged him through the door. "Dad!"

The door swung shut behind them, and his heart plummeted when no one opened it again.

* * *

"Alright, then," Pearl said sharply. "Let's 'ear it from yer."

"Hear what?" Kieren asked, struggling to keep a lid on his anger. On top of being dragged from his house and stood in front of a stuffy council like a naughty child being sent to the headmaster's office, now Simon was missing, too? If he'd had any residual good vibes from the previous night, they were definitely dead in the water by now. He kept his hands firmly shoved into his pockets for fear of lashing out at someone- oh, the council would have a field day if he did anything rash. Probably Taser him before he could blink.

"The confession."

"I've nothing to confess," he said calmly, a lot more calmly than he felt. He found himself glancing past his guards to the door, half hoping and half dreading that Simon could waltz in at any moment.

"Rubbish," Abigail Lamb snapped, sneering scornfully. "You and the Irish one broke into the GP's and let loose rabids that mauled the receptionist!"

"That's not true," Kieren protested, although he knew his complaints were falling on deaf ears.

"It saddens me that you've been so led astray, Kieren," Pearl said condescendingly. Kieren bristled, scowling at her as she stubbornly spouted false evidence. "You and yer accomplice were seen coming out of the GP's at the time of the mauling."

"Me and _Simon_," He corrected, more than a little frustrated with their refusal to even refer to his so-called 'accomplice' by name. "Worked together at the GP's a couple of days ago. We haven't been back since."

"Did you like yer time at the treatment centre?" she interjected. "'Cause that's where yer headed if you don't confess."

Kieren gaped at her, his brow furrowing incredulously. "You can't send me back to _Norfolk!_"

"Wanna bet?" she challenged, picking up the 'Halperin & Weston: Understanding PDS' pamphlet on the table and flashing the cover at him smugly before flipping to the fine print at the back. He glared open-mouthed at her, shifting about uncomfortably on the spot as the urge to hit something (or someone) intensified. He bit it back, keeping his hands buried as deep in his hoodie pockets as he could. If he lashed out it would only make things worse.

_Not that this situation can _get _much worse._

"'If a PDS sufferer is suspected of breaching their terms of release,'" Pearl read in an authoritative tone, obviously preparing to talk over any and all objections. "'They must be reported to the Department of Partially Deceased Affairs, whereupon the non-compliant patient will be _detained _for their own safety and the safety of others."

"I'm not breaching my 'terms of release!'" Kieren insisted, but she wasn't listening.

"'PDS patients who pose a threat to themselves or members of their community are considered dangerous, and the proper authorities should be notified,'" she finished, laying the pamphlet back on the table and looking up at him. "You and yer accomplice have been deemed a threat to yer community."

"I'm not a threat to the community!" Kieren said, shaking his head. How could anyone consider _him _a threat? Really? _Him? _Of all the wannabe undead radicals that slogged to Giveback every day with bare faces and bad attitudes, they suspected _him _of organising a terrorist attack? If he wasn't so angry and terrified he might have laughed.

"Are you the community?" Pearl demanded.

"Yes, I am the…" he trailed off, blinking in confusion. "I don't understand the question."

"It's very simple," she said haughtily. "I'm asking you if _you're_ the community."

Kieren shook his head slightly, still befuddled by the random question. "…No."

"That's right. Yer not," she gestured to the other council members. "_We _are the community, and _we _have deemed you a threat to it. Now admit yer guilt and we'll hand you a suspended sentence, _if not,_" she said loudly and firmly, silencing his complaint. "It's off to Norfolk with yeh."

"What about Simon?" Kieren demanded. He needed to know that much at least.

"Soon as he's found 'e's being packed off," Pearl said emotionlessly.

Kieren clamped his mouth shut, breathing heavily through his nose as he felt that familiar dry prickling in his eyes.

_No. Not Simon._

He wasn't an idiot. Though Simon hadn't gone into details about how he'd got that scar on his back, when he considered his words in the GP's surgery the day before it was easy enough to put two and two together. That wasn't the kind of wound you earned from an accident. Something had happened to Simon, some kind of torture or experimentation, and Kieren was willing to bet it had something to do with the treatment centre. If he got sent back there, and as a non-compliant, no less… was the air getting thinner in here?

He pulled his focus back to the room as he felt something being pushed into his hand. A tape recorder. He stared down at it as Mrs. Lamb spoke sharply from her seat.

"Now, confess yer crimes!" she demanded.

He raised it to his lips numbly, thumb hovering over the record button. He could just lie. He could just take credit for the whole thing, maybe they'd be more lenient with him than they would with Simon. Or he could at least get a chance to warn Simon and beg him to confess if confronted, maybe they wouldn't send him away if he played along. Between Jem's avoidance and his Parents' mistrust, it was starting to feel more and more like Simon was the only person on his side anymore, he couldn't just let them…

_So confess, then._

This whole situation was starting to sound a little too familiar. It was like being back in school, doing his GCSE's, his battered copy of _The Crucible _open on his desk as he wrote a half-hearted essay on the mass-hysteria of the courtrooms during the witch trials.

He felt anger filling him, clenching his fists and setting his milky eyes ablaze. No. He couldn't confess. What did it achieve? What, he'd get a temporary respite and a criminal record to hang over his head the next time he set as much as a toe out of line. Limited freedom with a chance of blackmail. He couldn't even guarantee Simon's safety- the council had never trusted the mysterious Irish traveller, and his reputation as a troublemaker had only been solidified in Pearl's mind the night he'd dragged Gary away from Kieren in a headlock. No, he didn't doubt for a second that they'd make good on their promise to ship him off to Norfolk on sight. Nothing he could say in here would convince them otherwise.

_You could still save yourself…_

Yes. He could keep pretending. Put the cover-up back on, stroll around in his flimsy mask and play puppet, act like everything was still okay. Act like he was still the same person he had been before the Rising around his family, play the mindless compliant at work, let himself slip back into the background of everyone's life so he would no longer be the focus of attention and they forgot he was ever a 'threat'.

_Well, _fuck _that._

"I didn't do it!" he shouted into the tape recorder, hurling it to the ground at their feet and watching it snap to pieces on the cold, hard floor.

Before he could utter another word he felt one of his guards step behind him and grip his arm, twisting it up behind his back. It wasn't painful to him anymore, but it was still incapacitating. He dropped to his knees, hanging helplessly from the man's hold as he felt his other hand clamp down on his shoulder.

He struggled against the vice-like grip, but all the fight had gone out of him. What was the point? If he broke out of this twat's grasp Dean would jump him without a second thought, and even if he did manage to escape what did he do then? There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. No one to back him up when they came looking for him.

"Good lord," Mrs. Lamb breathed, looking down on him with contempt. "What a monster."

* * *

_Monster._

The word stuck in his mind, echoing in his subconscious all the way home. He walked ahead of Dean numbly, barely noticing the ground beneath his feet. When he passed the angry mob of protestors outside his house he barely spared them a glance- they were only confirming what he already knew.

_You've always been a monster._

From the day he'd crawled from the ground he'd been a monster. The soulless, vicious killer that everyone feared. Medication and make-up and scripted speeches didn't change that. He'd tried so hard to prove that he _wasn't _just the beast that they thought he was. Tried to blend in and keep quiet, go along with all the pretty little lies. When that didn't work, when they still looked at him like he could claw their throats out at any given moment he'd given up. Let his real self out for the day, freed his skin from the layers of lies. When they'd pushed him to breaking point he'd allowed himself the luxury of snapping- and now, at the end of all that, all he'd managed to do was give them what they wanted. Make them feel like their fears were well-founded, give them the reason they'd been waiting for to keep him on a leash.

_You'll always _be _a monster._

And it wasn't just them. Everyone agreed. Dean stood guard outside his house to make sure he didn't crawl away and devour some hapless passer-by. His sister took one look at his white eyes and stormed right out of the house without a word. Even his father…

He'd sat by as Steve had tried to convince him to sign the confession papers he'd been handed. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much if he'd just been doing it because he thought it was his son's best chance, but it was more than that.

He believed that he'd done it.

Kieren could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He honestly believed that he and Simon had…

He felt his fury bubbling ever closer to the surface. He felt both relief and anger as his parents both got up to leave him behind in the deserted house. He seethed with quiet resentment as his Dad asked if he'd be alright on his own like he was some kind of toddler, and barely bit back a scream of frustration as he slapped the paper and pen down in front of him meaningfully. That little dotted line stared up at him accusingly, waiting patiently for him to scrawl his signature and seal his fate.

He carried the repulsive thing to his room at arm's length, smacking it down on his desk and collapsing onto his bed tiredly. He lifted his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes as the itchiness returned. He felt like his head was going to explode.

He sat up with a heavy sigh, swinging his legs off the mattress and resting his elbows on his knees as he surveyed the room from the edge of his bed. He glared at the form, and rolled his eyes up and away from it as he felt that little nagging urge to just sign it and get it over with. He wouldn't give in that easily.

His gaze landed on something else, halfway up the wall over the desk and standing out in stark contrast to the bright colours of his paintings. Simon's portrait, his charcoal features gazing out at Kieren from the flat surface of the paper.

God, could Kieren do with seeing that face right now.

He got to his feet, pulling up his hood and striding determinedly to the back door. If he was going to be stuck under house arrest for the foreseeable future, there was someone he needed to talk to first.

* * *

"Where the fuck are you?" Kieren muttered under his breath as he patted down the bed and shook out the pillows, hoping against hope that he might find some kind of note meant for him. Nothing to be found.

He'd been right about the snow disappearing- it was already nothing more than fine grey sludge by the time he reached the bungalow. He'd been let in by those shifty followers of Simon's- Zoe and Brian, he thinks, although he'd never really bothered to learn their names. The pair of them seemed to have moved themselves into the bungalow with no sign of moving on. Like termites. Still, he didn't have time to be pissed off with them right now. Not when Simon seemed to be doing his utmost to keep him off his scent.

He crouched down by the chest of drawers, glancing up at the mirror. He frowned when he saw the crumpled photo- Simon, looking human as human can be, sitting beside a woman with hair as dark as his own. His mother?

_Huh. So he did have blue eyes._

Kieren shook his head, returning to his search. Plenty of time to ask about it later, along with all the other questions he needed answered.

_Jesus, where is he?!_

He didn't know what he was searching for- some kind of note, perhaps? It made sense that if Simon was going to leave him a message he'd leave it somewhere Amy wouldn't look- technically they were still having it off behind her back. Kieren cursed himself silently. He was being an incredibly shitty friend about all of this. He'd talk to her. He would.

…Just as soon as he'd worked out where the bloody Hell Simon had gone.

His fingers closed around something. Something small and cylindrical. He pulled it out, half expecting to find a bottle of unused contact lens fluid or some of the officially licensed neurotriptyline that the disciple avoided like the plague.

He saw the blue glass, and his black blood ran cold.

"What the…" he breathed, turning the bottle over in his hand. The pill rattled around inside, and Kieren knew that if he tipped it out it'd be as blue as the glass it was encased in.

Blue Oblivion.

_Christ, Simon…_

Well, yet another question to add to the list. Fucking hell, he'd had this stuff for god knows how long. Every time Kieren visited the bungalow, all through last night, he'd had this stuff just rattling around in his drawers not ten feet away. His cheeks flamed, both with anger and embarrassment. He really didn't know who Simon was, did he?

"What you doing?"

"I'm, er," he said quickly, pocketing the bottle as discreetly as possible. He was going to confront Simon about them later, and he knew he stood a better chance of getting a straight answer if he held the evidence in his hand. Simon had a bad habit of evading questions. He straightened up and turned round, and felt guilt settle in his stomach once more at the sight of Amy leaning against the doorframe. She looked different to when he'd last seen her. She seemed… _tired_. Worn round the edges. Did she look like that yesterday? Would he even have noticed? Jesus, he was a terrible friend.

"I'm looking for Simon," he said truthfully. He was sick of telling lies. Besides, the need to find the missing Irishman had just become more urgent than ever. "Have you seen him? If the patrols catch him he's gonna get sent back to the treatment centre."

Amy shook her head, worry clouding her features. She didn't look well at all. She was clutching what looked like a bundled-up tent to her side, and the hand on the strap was trembling slightly.

"What's wrong?" Kieren asked. It was horrible, seeing her like this- what was going on?

"Loving the new look you're rocking," she said cheerily, hastily changing the subject. She gestured to his bare face with a grin. "Very handsome, Handsome!"

He smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Does he like it?"

The smile dropped from his face. He stared wide-eyed at her sickly face as she looked down and picked at a splinter on the doorframe. He didn't know what to say. Where did he begin? _So you know, then? I swear I was going to tell you! I didn't mean for it to go this far! Wait, how much do you know? Shit. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, if there's anything I can-_

"How do I look?" she asked brightly, changing the subject once again.

He gaped at her for a second, silently thanking her for giving him some time to think. If he was going to talk to her about this he'd like to have the right words to say. "Moregeous," he said as sincerely as he could. There was no denying that she looked unwell, but she was his friend. She'd already been far more patient with him than he deserved.

"You have to say that," she said, smiling fondly at him. "You're my BDFF:"

"Best Dead Friend Forever," Kieren recited with her, smirking. His face fell as the guilt returned. He didn't really think he deserved the title anymore. "Look, about me and Simon…" he began lamely, before quickly realising he had absolutely no idea how to continue.

He heard a door slam in the house, and had a moment of panic as he realised how late it must be getting. If he didn't get back soon… Well, he didn't want to think about it. "I'm sorry, Amy, we'll talk later, I have to go," he said, brushing past her regretfully. "I'm under house arrest."

"House arrest?" Amy breathed, her eyes wide. Kieren turned to face her and nodded sadly. "God," she sighed, rolling her eyes and laughing humourlessly. "This place is going to Hell!"

"You're telling me," Kieren rasped, turning his back and starting towards the door. He needed to get out of there, before he got found, before he was missed, before he said something he shouldn't…

"Kieren Walker?"

He turned back again, looking at her expectantly. "Yeah?" he asked tentatively, almost scared of what she had to say.

She met his gaze for a moment. Then she shook her head slightly. "Nothing," she said with a tired smile. "Take care. I mean it!"

He nodded, smiling bravely as he once again made to leave. It was better this way. He'd talk to her later. He had to. He had so much else to worry about now- Simon, Norfolk, his parents, he'd give his BDFF the full attention she deserved once he'd sorted out all the other messes in his life.

_Well, if you get the chance to talk later._

He froze with his hand on the door handle. His fingers clenched as he thought of everything that awaited him when he got home- livid parents, no doubt. A confession he may or may not sign. A loyal RPS guard-dog who was ready to either keep him under house arrest until he confessed or help manhandle him to the detention centre. For all he knew, this could be his last day in Roarton for a long time to come.

He spun around, his hand flying from the door handle as he stepped back into the hallway, standing face to face with a surprised Amy. "I'm sorry," he blurted, reaching out and taking her hand. "I mean it, I'm sorry for, well, everything. How I've handled everything, I've just… I've fucked up, and I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey," she said, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. "Easy there, Handsome- no need to get your knickers in a twist!"

He stared wide-eyed at her as he pulled his face away from her hand. "So… you're not angry?"

"Well, it was a shock to be sure," she said with a tilt of her head. "I certainly wasn't expecting to see you two snogging in the street."

"Shit," he muttered, wincing. Well, that was that, she'd officially found out in the worst possible way. He wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground. Again.

"But the more I thought about it," she continued, taking both of his hands and letting them swing between them. She shrugged, tossing her hair out of her face. "Well- he was never mine in the first place, was he?"

Kieren looked down at his feet guiltily. "I… I didn't mean to, y'know, step on your toes or-"

"Kier," she said, dropping his hand and grabbing his chin, forcing him to look up at her. "I'm fine," she said with a small smile. "Really. Okay, it might've been nice for you to at least give me a heads up before you swept Mymon off his feet but…" she shrugged. "Well, what's done is done."

Kieren felt his eyes prickling in that irritating way they did when his dead body couldn't muster the tears. "I really am sorry…"

"Hey, it's alright," she said softly. Then she grinned, raising both her hands to his cheeks and pinching them. "Besides, how could he have resisted that moregeous mug of yours, eh?"

He laughed hoarsely, smiling at her. He held out his arms and she stepped into them, tucking her face into his shoulder as he rubbed her back and sighing against his neck. He pressed his face to her hair with a smile. "What did I do to deserve you as a friend, Amy Dyer?"

"Probably something _horrible_ in your first life," she laughed, winding her arms round his waist.

"Hey, if you're my eternal punishment, I'm glad I was no saint," he said sincerely, tightening his grip on her shoulders.

They stood like that for a minute, just breathing each other in before they parted to face their own trials. When she finally broke the embrace she smiled warmly at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"You're off the hook for now, Kieren Walker," she said, putting on a serious face. "But I'll be having a little chat with you and that boy toy of yours soon enough."

"I don't doubt it!" Kieren laughed, his hands sliding from her shoulders and down to her hands. He regarded her sadly, his thoughts returning to that unsigned confession on his desk. "When will I see you again?" he wondered quietly, mostly to himself.

She looked heartbroken when she replied: "I've no idea."

He looked down at her thin hands clasped in his own, noticeably shaking. "Amy," he said quietly, meeting her gaze. "Are you okay?"

She smiled reassuringly at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I don't know."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers softly, looking into her eyes. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head slightly, releasing his hands and gripping his shoulders. "No can do, partner. I'm afraid I've got to battle this one out alone," she gave him a brave little smile, reaching into the paper bag that hung beside the bundled tent. "But I did mean to give you this…" she said quietly, pulling out an unsealed envelope and a pen. She licked the seal and closed it, scribbling his name on the front and handing it to him. "Do us a favour and don't read that for a while? Wait 'til tomorrow, yeah?"

He stared her down, not liking her tone of voice. "What is it?"

"_Promise?" _she insisted, holding up her other hand and extending her little finger. "Super serious pinkie swear?"

He sighed, but eventually lifted his finger to touch against hers. "Fine. Super serious pinkie swear."

She smiled, letting him take the envelope from her hand. "Good. That's my BDFF!"

He returned her smile, but kept his voice low. "Amy, please, just tell me this: you're not planning on doing something stupid, are you?"

"No, 'course not," she said. It wasn't a lie- as far as she was concerned, whatever she was planning was the most logical course of action. Still, it made Kieren nervous.

"Okay," he said slowly, watching her carefully. "Well, just take care, alright?" he said, squeezing her hand once more before he released her and backed away a step. He'd already been out too long, they could come out looking for him at any moment. "I mean it," he said firmly, echoing her words.

She rolled her eyes at him fondly. "Don't worry, _Mum, _I'll be fine. Look both ways before crossing the road and everything!"

He grinned, ducking forward to kiss her forehead before making his way back to the door. "We'll talk soon, okay?" he said, looking back at her over his shoulder.

"Okay," she whispered, clutching the tent close to her side as he gave her one last wave and disappeared into the bleak Roarton evening.

* * *

"Where the 'ell 'ave you been?" Steve demanded, rising from the sofa with his face cast in shadows.

"I…" Kieren began, but he couldn't answer. He'd been ambushed- what kind of explanation could he give them that wouldn't get him in even more trouble?

"I was just about to let Dean know you'd gone," Steve said warningly.

"If he'd have done that, Kieren…" Sue said sharply, her arms crossed over her chest.

Kieren stared at them both in disbelief. He turned to his mother, pleading for her understanding with his eyes. "I had to go out, Mum," he insisted. She didn't meet his gaze.

"Where'd you go?" Steve asked. "Can you at least not lie about that?"

Kieren stared at him, shaking his head incredulously. Did they have _any _trust in him whatsoever, anymore? He turned to his mother again, desperately seeking support. "Mum…"

She remained silent. He inhaled deeply, drawing as much strength from his lungs as he could before he turned back to face his father.

"I went to look for Simon."

It definitely wasn't the answer Steve had wanted to hear. He clenched his jaw, turning to look at his wife as he spoke. "It's happening all over again, Sue," he said, turning back to Kieren and staring him down. "Someone puts a spell on him, and it all ends in disaster."

Kieren gaped at his father, shaking his head. He didn't even know where to begin. Was it really so ridiculous that he would try to be his own person of his own accord? Was that how they saw him- just some impressionable kid who latched onto men and let them lead him on? Is that all Rick was to them? Just a boy who bewitched their son and caused his death?

He didn't know what he resented more; that they would automatically assume that Rick and Simon, two of the most important people in his life, were just out to use him. Or that they thought he was just some kind of spineless teen with no will of his own. While it was true that he couldn't completely vouch for Simon's motives as of yet- his mysterious disappearance was definitely a spanner in the works- he was not under the disciple's thumb. In fact, if last night was any indication he'd say it was the other way round. "Mum," he said, desperately trying to get her back on his side. "Can you tell him I'm not under anyone's _spell?_"

"How can we ever trust you again, Kier?" Steve demanded. Sue made no effort to speak.

"You can start by not siding with the _mob, _Dad!" Kieren said bitterly.

Steve straightened up and stared him down. "I'm just concerned for this family's safety."

Heavy silence fell across the room. Kieren stared at his dad's stoic face, his mind reeling. Was he…?

Kieren gulped, taking a step towards his father.

"You scared of me?" he asked, his voice catching.

"I am," Steve said bluntly. Kieren felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "I'll admit it, when you're acting like this."

"Acting like _what?_" Kieren cried.

"I don't even recognise you anymore!" Steve said harshly.

"This is _who I am!_" his son advanced towards him, his eyes wide and his face desperate.

His father took a step back.

Kieren froze, staring speechlessly at Steve.

_He's not lying. _

_He really _is_ scared of you._

"Jesus," Kieren breathed, disgust in his voice as he stormed away to the stairs. He couldn't look at either of them right now.

* * *

He stared at the confession form, his hand suspended with the pen above the line. Just one little signature. He'd heard his parents' voices, floating up from the living room to his vantage point on the stairs. They wanted to send him back. Pack him off to the treatment centre so he'd be someone else's problem. If he refused to confess, there was no way either of them would fight for him now. Once again, he was on his own.

One little signature and he might have a chance.

He dropped the pen, barely waiting for it to clatter to the hard surface of the desk before he had the paper in his hands and torn to pieces.

_No more pretending._

He let the fragments flutter to the table, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he straightened his neck and opened his eyes he found himself face to face with the charcoal portrait, Simon's piercing gaze on his face.

"I have to say something to you," Kieren said firmly, imagining the real Simon standing before him. "I don't know what it is you want, or where you've gone. To be honest, I'm not sure I even _want _to know. But right now I have bigger things to worry about."

He stared the drawing down, unloading his frustrations and clearing his head with every word. "I don't have time to spend wondering why you're doing what you're doing. I'd love to just lie down, close my eyes and try to work it out, but that requires time and that's one thing I don't have. For a while last night, you made me feel…" he shook his head. "Well, you made me feel loved. Not many people have done that recently. For a while I really thought that you meant it. You're gone now, and I don't know if it's because you had somewhere to be or you just wanted to get away, but I don't have time to figure it out. I could spend my entire second life trying to just fucking decode you, but right now it's just one extra riddle that I really don't fucking need. I thought you were on my side, and maybe you still are, but that doesn't count for _shit _when I can't even find you. I have to get myself out of this now. Whatever happens to me now… I'm alone."

He gulped, feeling his eyes itch and his throat close. But he kept his gaze fixed, kept his voice level. "Isn't it always the way?" he said with a humourless laugh. "But that means it's all up to me. I'm in this mess now, and that means I have to get myself out. And that means I don't have time for distractions."

He planted his hands on the desk, leaning forward so his eyes were level with the portrait's. "Whatever's going on with you, with _us,_ I don't have time for it now. If I come out the other side of this, then I'll have time to talk to you and work you out, but right now…" his gaze turned hard. "Right now, I think it's best if you keep your distance."

He sighed, straightening up and breaking eye contact with the drawing. He slid his hands into his pockets as he felt his energy drain away, like his heated debate with an emotionless sketch had sapped his strength.

His hand brushed something, and he pulled out the sealed envelope. His name, underscored by a sweeping kiss, adorned the front. The seal was still damp.

He moved to place it on his desk, atop the scattered remains of his unsigned confession. He had promised to leave it alone until tomorrow, after all.

But then he remembered the way her hands had trembled. The sadness in her eyes and the pain in her smile.

He glanced up at the clock. 12:04 a.m.

Well, technically it was already tomorrow.

He ran his fingers under the flap, breaking the seal.

As he removed the contents and the paper unfolded, he felt the cold air rush from his lungs.

**Last Will & Testament of Amy Dyer**

* * *

"_I feel so much better now you're not around_

_There's no one to kick me while I'm down_

_No one to burn my bridges anymore_

_So keep on walking_

'_Cause I'm not here to make you feel good_

_To dry up your tears and apologise for you_

_I feel so much better now you're not around_

_So keep on walking out"_

* * *

**_Sorry to keep y'all waiting for so long! Hope it lived up to expectations!_**

**_A few notes, firstly, on Kieren and Amy- I hate hate HATED the way they left it with those two in the series, hence why I did my own thing with it because YOU'RE BDFFS, YOU CAN'T LEAVE THINGS ALL WEIRD LIKE THAT! I just wanted things to be okay :( (so yeah, as you can tell I'm starting to go a little AU with this thing. More fun that way! I like being able to write my own dialogue :D)_**

**_Secondly, about Kieren's hair- this is just an interesting thing I was considering. He looks so blonde in the series, doesn't he? But Luke Newberry's actually pretty damn ginger, and I was wondering why he looked so different for the majority of the series- then I realised they must do a lot of editing on the colouring of the shots to make everything look much bleaker than it is, make it more in-keeping with the dull, grim nature of the show and the situation. I just thought it was interesting- I really noticed the difference in episode 6, when Si and Kier are waiting in the GP's surgery. I don't know, I think his hair looks closer to his natural shade in that shot than it does most of the time. So yeah, I've been referring to him as blonde/strawberry blonde a lot in this, but I'm thinking I might mention the bleak, draining nature of Roarton at some point, maybe Simon pointing out how red his hair looks in the sunlight or something, that could be a cute moment :D_**

**_So yeah, next chapter we'll be having episode 5 from Simon's perspective, so don't miss out! Will contain flashbacks and feels!_**

**_Until next time!_**


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